An Apache life-way; the economic, social, and religious institutions of the Chiricahua Indians

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AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

PLATE I

Chiricahua Camp

United States National Museum

AN.APACHE LIFE-WAY

The Economic, Social, and Religious Institutions of the

Chiricahua Indians

MORRIS EDWARD OPLER

\

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS

Chicago and London

To

ELSIE CLEWS PARSONS

Able Anthropologist, Helpful Critic, and

Generous Sponsor of the Work of Others

The University of Chicago Press, Chicago & London
The University of Toronto Press, Toronto 5, Canada

Copyright 1941 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved

Published 1941

Second Impression 1965

Printed in the United States of America

PREFACE

I HAVE tried to fashion an account of the Chiricahua Apache
that will be real and convincing for readers of Western
European extractions and traditions. Often the anthropol-
ogist begins with the reactions and behavior of the average adult
of the culture he has studied. The descriptive details then seem
so far removed from anything we, the products of another life-
way, know, that an atmosphere of exotic contrast is created, and
the relevance of the material for us and for our problems fails to
emerge.

Consequently, I have endeavored to show how a person be-
comes a Chiricahua as well as to indicate what he does because
he is a Chiricahua. Events are introduced in the order in which
they are experienced in the course of the gnormal Chiricahua
Apache life-cycle. The attempt has been made to convey an ap--
preciation of hrsr awareness to the culture, of initial contacts
with its precepts, of the steady pressure by which it shapes its
carriers, and of the adjustments to its demands, obligations, and
satisfactions which the individual accepts. I have sought in this
manner to shift the emphasis from strange externals to more fa-
miliar and important processes and purposes. I have wanted the
average Chiricahua to be an intelligible and sympathetic figure,
not in the sense that the reader approves or disapproves all his
ideas and actions, but in the sense that the reader understands
what he has become in terms of what he has experienced. My
principal concern in this book has been with what is socialized
and not with personality differences. Consequently, materials
pertaining to the individual as such are stressed only when it
is important to show the range of variation which the culture
permits at particular points.

To trace, painstakingly and sensitively, the introduction of an
individual to the formal requirements and implications of his
culture requires more than a superficial treatment. It was nee-

vi PREFACE

essary to make the study as "complete" as possible — not in any
ethnologically Utopian sense but in the practicable, attainable
meaning of an inquiry many sided enough to satisfy the reader
that no important aspect of thought or behavior had been left
entirely unexplored.

Moreover, since it was the socialization of the Chiricahua
which was to be examined, I felt that not only the sequence of
events but the contexts in which they are placed should be faith-
ful to the Chiricahua view. In order to keep the emphases as the
participants feel them, it became necessary to separate items
which might have been brought together by some other classi-
fication and to unite data which would have been scattered in
response to a more conventional topical treatment. Thus, many
varieties of religious experience have been introduced before any
thorough explanation of religious ideology is attempted, simply
because these impressions of the supernatural are communicated
to the child long before he is in a position to rationalize their
significance. Again, raid and warfare are subsumed under the
maintenance of the household, not because of any notions of my
own concerning the nature of these activities, but because, at the
period described, the Chiricahua considered the raid a legitimate
industry and trained faithfully for its proper fulfilment with this
in mind.

It is my feeling that the most successful ethnographic study
in terms of what it honestly establishes is the one in which the
writer intrudes least upon the scene. It is a solemn responsibility
to act as one of the few links between the world of letters and a
way of life which has bounded the happiness and sorrow of thou-
sands of individuals for hundreds of years. In determining how
and when and where the basic understandings and persuasions
ordinarily come to the individual consciousness, the primary
source must be the testimony cf the people involved. It has been
part of my method, therefore, to describe the culture in its own
terms, to employ the comments and explanations of informants
wherever they seem pertinent. I have preferred to use my own
observations as research leads by means of which to elicit descrip-
tions and experiences from Chiricahua friends rather than to

PREFACE vii

employ them as final statements. The picture of external move-
ment is essential, but the attitudes and evaluations that sur-
round overt behavior are quite as important. These imponder-
ables of context the informant can best supply.

It is my hope that a volume which depicts the development of
the individual in relation to society, which draws so heavily from
source materials, and which emphasizes the functions of institu-
tions in context will be of interest not only to professional anthro-
pologists but also to educators, child psychologists, sociologists,
and to all those sincerely concerned with the comprehension of
the human scene. With this larger potential audience in mind,
native words have been translated into English where this could
be done and technical terms have been avoided.1 Because Dr.
Harry Hoijer will soon have available a Chiricahua Apache dic-
tionary, no glossary is included. For specialists, kinship mate-
rials are given in an appendix. Native names, unpronounceable
to the average reader in the original and often cumbersome in
translation, have been reduced to initials. An additional reason
for this is that many of the references are of an intimate or
religious nature, and the information was often given with the
understanding that identities be masked. Exceptions are made
in the case of Geronimo and several other former leaders who
have become historical figures. Summaries of legends and refer-
ences to mythological subjects are based on my own collection
where other sources are not acknowledged.

This volume, besides describing the aboriginal life of the Chiri-
cahua, is the first of a series of monographs which will character-
ize and compare the cultures of four Apache tribes of the Ameri-
can Southwest and the adjoining region of Old Mexico — the
Chiricahua, Mescalero, Lipan, and Jicarilla. I have gathered ma-
terial, also, concerning the present status and adjustment of the
Chiricahua Apache. But most of these people now share a reser-
vation in New Mexico with the Mescalero Apache. Consequent-
ly, in order, that the acculturation of the inhabitants of the
Mescalero Reservation may be treated as the logical unit it is,

1 For the few Chiricahua words retained, the orthography recommended in
the American Anthropologist, Vol. XXXVI, No. 4 (1934), has been followed.

viii PREFACE

I am withholding most of my comparisons of the old and the
new until the Mescalero Apache have been described as well.

In bringing this segment of the project to completion, my
obligations to institutions and friends are many. The Depart-
ment of Anthropology and the Social Science Research Commit-
tee of the University of Chicago, the Council for Research in the
Social Sciences of Columbia University, the Laboratory of An-
thropology of Santa Fe, the National Research Council, the Of-
fice of Indian Affairs, the Social Science Research Council, and
the Southwest Society, by field fellowships, financial assistance,
and other courtesies, enabled me to remain in contact with Chiri-
cahua informants for a total of approximately two years during
the period 1931-37. The Social Science Research Committee of
the University of Chicago has made possible the preparation
and publication of the study at this time.

Dr. Ruth Benedict, Dr. Regina Flannery, Mr. Paul Frank,
Dr. John Gillin, Mr. M. R. Harrington, Dr. Jules Henry, Dr.
Harry Hoijer, Mrs. Edith Rosenfels Nash, and Dr. Sol Tax, as
members of the summer field party of 1931 of the Laboratory
of Anthropology of Santa Fe, or in other capacities, gathered
Chiricahua data which they have generously put at my disposal.
The materials of these co-workers have corroborated and ex-
tended my own information at many points and have been of
signal value throughout. In addition, Dr. Benedict and Dr.
Hoijer have read and criticized the manuscript. The last named
has also given inestimable assistance in the translation of
Chiricahua terms. Others who have read the manuscript in
whole or in part and who have furnished valuable suggestions
are Dr. Edwin R. Embree, Dr. Elsie Clews Parsons, Dr. Russell
M. Story, Mr. Laurence Stutsman, and Mr. Richard Waterman.
Mr. Thomas Miles, photographer, and Audrey Waterman have
aided in the preparation of illustrative materials. Professors
E. F. Castetter and A. L. Hershey have helped me in the identi-
fication of plant specimens.

I am indebted to the Claremont Colleges Museum, the Denver
Art Museum, the Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foun-
dation, the Laboratory of Anthropology of Santa Fe, and the

PREFACE

IX

United States National Museum for photographs of Chiricahua
subjects and artifacts.

Over thirty Chiricahua Apache, representing all three bands,
have contributed to the field notes which have gone into this vol-
ume. Of these, a number who assisted for prolonged periods de-
serve special mention: John Allard, Duncan Balachu, Alfred
Chatto, David Fatty, Paul Gadelkon, Martin Kayitah, Samuel
E. Kenoi, Arnold Kinjoni, Charles Martine, Daniel Nicholas,
and Leon Perico. John Allard, Samuel E. Kenoi, and Daniel
Nicholas acted as interpreters as well as informants, and their
interest and help far exceeded the ordinary requirements of their
task.

My final acknowledgment is to my wife, Catherine Opler, as-
sociate in the plan and in the labor, without whose help and faith
and lovely presence nothing else would avail.

Morris Edward Opler

Claremont Colleges

Claremont, California

November 1940

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

List of Illustrations xiii

Location and Historical Sketch i

Childhood 5

Beginnings r

Cradle Days 10

First Steps 15

Spring Hair-cutting Ceremony 17

Surroundings 18

Early Training and Discipline 25

The Dangers of Childhood 36

Play 45

The Child and His Kin 54

Childhood's End 65

Maturation 77

The Molding of Sex Attitudes 77

The Girl's Puberty Rite 82

The Novitiate for Raid and War 134

Social Relations of Adults 140

Relations between Men and Women 140

Marriage Arrangements, Marriage, and Residence 154

The Man and His Wife's Relatives 163

The Married Man and His Blood Kin 181

The Woman and Her Husband's Relatives 1 84

Folk Beliefs, Medical Practice, and Shamanism 186

Folk Beliefs, Muscular Tremors, and Dreams 1 86

Cosmology and Supernaturals 194

The Shaman and Power , 200

Medical Practices 216

Origins of Disease 224

Sorcery and Incest 242

The Generalized Curing Rite 257

Ceremonialism in Action; Obtaining and Using Power 267

Skepticism 313

Maintenance of the Household 316

Hunting 316

The Economic Interest in Raid and War 332

xi

xii TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

War for Vengeance 336

The Gathering and Utilization of Wild Food Plants 354

The Cooking and Preservation of Meat Products 365

The Preparation of Beverages 368

The Storage of Food and Surplus Possessions 37 1

Agriculture . 372

Home Industries of Women 375

Home Industries of Men 386

Ownership of Goods, Trade, and Gift-giving 397

Marital and Sexual Life 401

Personality Adjustment between Husband and Wife 401

Sexual Adjustment 403

Birth Control, Barrenness, and Fertility Rites 405

Jealousy and Extra-marital Relations 406

Divorce 412

Sexual Aberrance and Perversion 415

Polygyny and Sororal Polygyny 416

The Sororate and Levirate 420

The Round of Life 427

Camp Life and Etiquette 427

Humor 434

Parties, Dances, and Story-telling 436

Smoking 441

Sports and Games of Adults 443

Invective 456

Antisocial Conduct 458

Political Organization and Status ! 462

Death, Mourning, and the Underworld 472

Appendix: Chiricahua Kinship System and Terms 479

Selected Bibliography 481

Index 483

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PLATES

I. Chiricahua Camp Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

II. Carrying the Cradle t

III. Erecting the Ceremonial Structure 94

IV. Girl Dressed for Puberty Rite . 95

V. A Masked Dancer .... 100

VI. Headdresses of the Masked Dancer 101

Vila. Masked Dancers Coming Down from the Hills at Dusk . . 112

VIL£. Worshiping the Fire 112

VIII. The Round Dance (the Ceremonial Structure in the Back-
ground) 113

IX. Framework of the Sweat Lodge 218

X. Amulets 219

XI. Ceremonial Hats for Protection in War 310

Xlla. Moccasins 311

XIL£. Burden Basket 311

XIIc. Water Jars 311

XIII<2. Bow, Arrows, Bow Cover, and Quiver 390

XIIU. War Club 390

XlVa. Fire Drill, Hide-Scraper, and Knife Sheath 391

XIW. Saddle Bag 391

XV. Woman with Mutilated Nose 410

XVI<z. Men Playing Hoop-and-Pole Game 411

XVI£. Hoop of Hoop-and-Pole Game; "Moccasins," Blanket, Bone,

Striking-Stick, and Counters of Moccasin Game . . . .411

.FIGURES

PAGE

i. Map Showing Approximate Location of Chiricahua Bands in

Aboriginal Times xiv

1. Chiricahua Kinship System . 480

xiii

LOCATION AND HISTORICAL SKETCH

THIS volume describes the culture of an Apachean-
speaking tribe of the American Southwest as it existed
during the youth of the older informants from whom
data were collected. The Chiricahua were already horsemen and
possessed their first firearms, but tribal life had not yet been dis-
rupted by hostilities with the Americans.

The territory which they controlled during this period was
extensive and is not easy to define accurately. They ranged
through southwestern New Mexico, southeastern Arizona, and
the northern parts of the Mexican states of Sonora and Chihua-
hua. The Rio Grande acted as the eastern boundary. Occasional
journeys and raids brought them as far north as the pueblo out-
posts of Laguna, Acoma, and Zufii, but ordinarily they did not
stray much farther north than the present site of Quemado, New
Mexico. The western limits of their country can be roughly indi-
cated, from north to south, by the present towns of Spur Lake,
Luna, Reserve, and Glenwood in New Mexico, and by Duncan,
Wilcox, Johnson, Benson, Elgin, and Parker Canyon in Arizona.
To the south an undetermined area in northern Mexico was also
under their control.

The Chiricahua bands were three in number. The most east-
ern and northern band, whose territories joined those of the
Mescalero Apache at the Rio Grande, controlled almost all the
Chiricahua territory west of the Rio Grande in New Mexico
and has been given a number of names throughout the literature.
Those occurring most frequently are Warm Springs or Ojo Cali-
ente Apache, Coppermine Apache, Mimbrenos Apache, and
Mogollones Apache. The Chiricahua name for this band is cfhend,
"Red Paint People." In historic times this band has been led by
Mangus Colorado, Victorio, Nana, and Loco. From historical
records and the accounts of informants, the local groups and
camp sites of the members of this band can be traced to the

2 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Datil Range, the vicinity of Rito, Hot Springs, Cuchillo, and
the Black, the Mimbres, the Mogollon, the Pinos Altos, Vic-
toria, and Florida mountain ranges. For convenience I have
called the Red Paint People the Eastern Chiricahua band.

To the south and west of the Red Paint People, ranging
through the portion of southwestern New Mexico west of the
Continental Divide and through southeastern Arizona, a second
Chiricahua band, called 66Rdnm, whose name does not yield to
linguistic analysis, was to be found. This is the band to which
the term "Chiricahua" was first applied. It was this band, often
called in the literature "Cochise" Apache after their leader,
Cochise, which held Apache Pass, and with which the govern-
ment had a great deal of trouble during the Indian Wars. The
most famous of the strongholds of this band, which I have named
the Central Chiricahua band, were the Dragoon Mountains, the
Chiricahua Mountains, and the Dos Cabezas Mountains.

The third and southernmost band of the Chiricahua, called
in the native tongue, ndeinda-i, "Enemy People," stayed almost
entirely in what is now Old Mexico. I shall refer to this group
as the Southern Chiricahua band. During the last half of the
nineteenth century difficulties with the Mexican soldiery drove
them north, where they speedily came into conflict with settlers
and United States government forces. After that they were har-
ried from either side of the border until Geronimo's surrender
in 1886. Geronimo himself was born a member of this band.
Mention of this tribal subdivision in the literature is made under
the names of Southern Chiricahua and Pinery Apache. Refer-
ence in the literature may be found to their leader, Hq whose
name has been variously written as Who, Whoa, or Juh. The
Sierra Madre and the Hatchet Mountains were familiar land-
marks of this band.

With the appearance in numbers of white settlers, the affairs
of the tribe took an unhappy turn. About 1870 the Ojo Caliente
Reserve in western New Mexico was established for the Eastern
Chiricahua band. In 1872 similar provision was made for the
Central Chiricahua and the Southern Chiricahua. Because part
of their range lay in Old Mexico, it was particularly difficult to

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY 3

control the movements of the members of the latter group.
When the local reservations which had permitted these people
to remain in their familiar territories were abolished after 1875
in order to concentrate all Chiricahua on the White Mountain
Apache Reservation, the stage was set for trouble. The antago-
nism between the Western Apache and the Chiricahua was
marked, and many Chiricahua refused to obey the order to move.
Others who were forced to go would leave their new home as
soon as military supervision was relaxed. Out of this situation
grew a number of bloody incidents and two major military opera-
tions— one when General Crook, in his campaign of 1883, was
forced to cross over into Old Mexico in order to obtain the sur-
render of these Indians, and the last in 1885-86, ending on Sep-
tember 5, 1886, when Geronimo surrendered to General Nelson
A. Miles.1 During this period of strife the tribe, normally over
one thousand strong, was reduced to less than half that number.
The aftermath of this struggle was the removal of the entire
Chiricahua tribe, over four hundred individuals, from the West.
They went, as prisoners, first to Florida and then, after a short
stay, to Alabama, where they were held until 1894. In that
year they were sent to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, where they were re-
tained until their release from the status of prisoners of war.
This occurred in 19 13, when individuals were given their choice
of taking up residence on the Mescalero Indian Reservation of
New Mexico or of accepting allotments of land in Oklahoma.
Less than one hundred chose to stay where they were. The sur-
vivors of this group and their descendants are still living in the
vicinity of Apache, Oklahoma. Most of the Chiricahua, how-
ever, went to New Mexico and now live at Mescalero on a reser-
vation which they share with the Mescalero and Lipan Apache.

1 For a longer account of these troubles, from the native point of view, see
Opler, "A Chiricahua Apache's Account of the Geronimo Campaign of 1886,"
New Mexico Historical Review, October, 1938.

PLATE II

United States National Museum

Carrying the Cradle

CHILDHOOD

BEGINNINGS

/\T THE first signs of pregnancy a woman takes immedi-

/—\ ate steps to insure the safe delivery and good health of

-*- -^- the developing child. To prevent injury to the fetus,

she refrains from sexual intercourse as soon as the menses stop.

The food restrictions she observes are not onerous. She eats
sparingly of fat meat lest the child become too large and delivery
be difficult. She avoids eating animal intestines, a food associ-
ated with stillbirths in which the child is strangled by the umbili-
cal cord. Pinon nuts are shunned also, for they cause the child
to "have fat all over," thus prolonging delivery.

An important restriction is the injunction against riding a
horse; "the shaking is not good for a pregnant woman." This
rule became extended in later days to include riding in wagons.
The woman also avoids ceremonies where masked dancers ap-
pear, for the sight of the hooded figures "hurts both mother and
child. The child might not come out and might kill the woman."
Some prospective fathers are just as careful about this, because
the impersonator has "a hood over his head and the child may
be born with a caul over its face." Others hold that the rule con-
cerns the mother only and that the father can look at the masked
dancers and can even act as a masked dancer, providing all signs
of this role are entirely erased before he returns home.

The pregnant woman refrains from excessive walking, from
lifting heavy burdens, and from sitting up for long periods. She
is urged to take sufficient rest. The consideration with which she
is treated reflects the great love of children that characterizes
the society. "A woman about to become a mother is treated ex-
tra nice, just like a child." Yet the performance of ordinary
household tasks is considered beneficial to her throughout this
period, and laziness and self-pity are ridiculed. "They say that
when you sit on the child after the fifth month it will be harder

5

6 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

for you. The child gets in the right position for coming out if
you move around. The more you are a coward about it, the
worse it will be for you."

Little attempt is made to control the sex of the expected child.
Whether or not such control is possible is a moot point. One in-
formant told of "a ceremony which causes them to have a boy
or a girl. It is performed right at the beginning." The man was
unable to supply the details, however. On another occasion the
same person stated that, if a man scrapes his foot over the four
sides of the woman in labor, a boy is born; but, if a woman
touches the four sides with her hand, the baby is a girl. Most
commentators discount these claims:

There are lots of people here who would control it if they could, like D., who
has all boys and wants a daughter.

Whether it's a boy or a girl is in Yusn's1 power; that's the way I look at it.
Some shamans say they can control it, but I believe there is nothing to that.

However, the activity of the child during the prenatal period
furnishes a clue to its sex. A fetus which "has lots of life" is pre-
sumed to be a male; a less active one, a female. Estimates of the
length of pregnancy are approximately accurate.

It is essential for the expectant mother and her husband to
avoid acrimonious clashes with others. "A pregnant woman has
to keep out of fusses with other women because many are
witches, and, if she quarrels with them, they may harm the child.
The husband has to be careful of witches, too, when his wife is
pregnant."

At the onset of labor pains close female relatives of the woman
attend her. Her mother, her mother's sisters, her mother's
mother, and her older sisters are members of the relationship
group from which assistants are most likely to come. If the hus-
band's family lives near by, his mother or sister may be present.
When a woman skilled in midwifery is numbered among these rela-
tives, no outside help is asked. Otherwise the service of a woman
who has special ceremonial and practical knowledge is sought.
Such a woman is often selected on the basis of "the good luck

1 A deity known also as Life Giver.

CHILDHOOD 7

she has had in bringing babies into the world." If she has "a
family of fine children of her own," it is a happy augury. Very
important is her right to perform a ceremony, to pray and sing
and treat the newborn infant ritually. It is not absolutely es-
sential to have such a "ceremonial" woman in command at this
time, but, since success in life depends so largely on ritual prepa-
ration, she functions in a majority of births. This woman is well
paid for her services; some valuable property, often a horse, is
her reward.

When the time for delivery draws near, the husband leaves
the home. Unless an emergency arises, he cannot be present at
the birth, for relatives of his wife to whom he stands in a rela-
tionship of respect and avoidance are certain to be there.2

There is no definite rule which bars other men from being pres-
ent. In fact, they are sometimes asked to attend in emergencies.
But usually "men don't come to a birth because there are so
many women around, and a man would feel funny." Another
factor which discourages their attendance is that discharges from
the woman's body at childbirth are to some extent equated with
menstrual blood, from which a man can contact painful swelling
of the joints.

During delivery the woman kneels with legs apart before an
oak post which she uses to steady herself. Assistants hold her
arms if she requires aid. To facilitate the birth, the genitals may
be bathed in water in which the pounded root of a plant (Erio-
gonum jamesii) has been boiled. A similar decoction will be used
after the birth to insure rapid healing. To speed birth, four small,
light-colored pieces of the inner leaves of narrow yucca may be
swallowed with salt, one after the other. The midwife massages
the woman's abdomen downward and receives the child. With
a long black flint or with a sharp edge of a length of reed or yucca
leaf, she cuts the umbilical cord about one and one-half inches
from the baby's navel and knots the end or ties it with a strand
of yucca-leaf string. If the child does not cry or breathe at once,
cold water is dashed on its body. When a baby is obviously alive

2 For an account of these observances see pp. 163-81.

8 AN APACHE LIFE- WAY

but does not cry or cry loudly, that child "will grow up to be
strong."

Following a normal delivery, the midwife washes the infant
in tepid water at once and places it on a soft robe. In some cases
a plant (Parosela formosd) is added to this water "to keep the
child from crying." She rubs a mixture of grease and red ocher
over the baby's body to keep the skin from getting sore. Next
she strews pollen or ashes to the directions in clockwise circuit
beginning with the east and holds the blanket and the child to
the directions in the same order. Prayers and practices which
mark her individually owned rite accompany this procedure.
Meanwhile, others minister to the mother. Particular care is
taken in cases of prolapse of the uterus to see that the organ is
pushed back into place properly.

The afterbirth is gathered together in the robe or piece of old
clothing upon which the woman has knelt. With it is put the um-
bilical cord. These must not be burned or buried. If they are
buried and then dug up and consumed by animals, the child is
harmed. The approved method of disposal is to place the bundle
in a fruit-bearing bush or tree "because the tree comes to life
every year, and they want life in this child to be renewed like the
life in the tree." Before final disposal, the bundle is blessed by
the midwife. To the tree she says, "May the child live and grow
up to see you bear fruit many times."3

At the time of the birth ceremony a name may be suggested
for the infant, often by the midwife. However, when nothing
unusual marks the birth or distinguishes the newborn baby, the
naming may not take place for two or three months. Even when
a name is immediately conferred, there is little reason to think
that the child will bear it long.

When my daughter was born, the midwife gave her a name, but it did
not catch on. Then my wife called her "My Daughter." All the others around
our camp now do so too. Later, before she is ten or eleven years old, we will
give her another name. This is a Chiricahua custom. The baby name is out-
grown. One child, for example, is called "Ugly Baby." But she will not be called

3 One informant claimed that the cord is retained and later eaten by the
child, but no verification of this was obtained from others.

CHILDHOOD 9

this later on. Later the child will be named according to circumstances; some-
thing about the child will suggest a name. Once in a while the first name is kept
because it fits so well that the person "wears" it all the time.

Since the name relates to personality traits or to events, it is
not necessarily a clue to the sex of its bearer.

When labor is excessively difficult or long delayed, and espe-
cially when sorcery is suspected, appeal is made to men or women
who carry on still other ceremonies. One elder described such a
rite which he had performed over a young woman. She had been
in labor for about eighteen hours, and it was feared that "the
baby would have to be killed and taken out in pieces to save
her." In response to an urgent request from her relatives, the
old man hurried to the camp with a helper. He prayed and drew
a cross of black mineral substance on his helper's hand. He then
directed his assistant to put his arm around the woman's body
at various places and to press her gently while he began a cere-
monial song of four verses. At the end of the second verse a boy
was born — ''born before I got through with one song." Great
claims are made for these childbirth ceremonies and for these
practitioners. "As soon as they touch the woman who is having
a hard time, everything is made easy for her."

Nursing begins "as soon as the mother has milk." The colos-
trum is not differentiated from the milk secreted later. Concern-
ing frequency of feedings, it was said, "I have seen that, when
women have babies, as soon as they cry the mothers give them
the breast." "The women boil up lots of bones and make a soup
right away. They say that makes lots of milk and pure milk."
If the mother's milk does not flow at once, the child is not fed
the first day. If she is unable to nurse the child on the second
day, it is given a little water. Should she still lack milk on the
third day, the child is nursed by a mother's sister or other close
relative.

From the mother a Spartan attitude is expected. "Women
didn't lie around as they do now; they got up soon afterward."
"I saw T.'s wife. She has had many children. Today she has a
baby; tomorrow she is around doing something. Some lie down
for an hour maybe. The next day they are up." But most con-

io AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

finements last from a few days to a week. Moreover, the cere-
monies for difficult childbirth and the many medicines in use for
ailments resulting from childbearing suggest that the woman
does not always have an easy time.

After the birth of her child, the woman ties a rope or a strap
around her waist "so that her stomach will not sag." She wears
this until she feels strong once more.

Despite the roving life, there is an attachment to the place of
birth. A child is told where he was born; and, when he is again
brought to the vicinity, "they roll him on the ground to the four
directions. They don't make a special trip for this, but they do
it if they happen to be there. This is done even if the child is
getting big." Adults as well as children have been known to roll
in this manner upon returning to the birthplace.

CRADLE DAYS

Normally, the fourth day after birth is the occasion for a cra-
dle ceremony, although sometimes the rite is delayed for a few
days more. The immediate family may include an old man or
woman prepared to perform it, or the midwife may know the
rite and accept the task. Depending on the "way" of the shaman
who officiates, the ceremony will be elaborate or modest. A poor
family is satisfied to obtain a shaman whose ceremony is pruned
to essentials, while a wealthy family may make more of a display
of the event. Not infrequently the selection of the practitioner is
related to the web of human relations — to friendships, to bonds
of blood, to desire for gain.

There's a shaman, my relative. And there are some people who have a new
baby. They are well-off people; they have much property; they have horses and
buckskins and bring in lots of deer. My relative has nothing like this, though he
is a shaman. He is poor. I notice that this wealthy family with the new baby
has lost several babies before this.

I go to them. I say, "You people have a new baby. I notice that you have
lost several children. My relative is a good shaman. He knows something to
keep the child well. You go to him and ask him and he will put up a ceremony
for you. But don't tell him who told you about his ceremony."

Those relatives of the little child talk it over. One says, "I'll give a gun for
that ceremony." Another says, "I'll give two blankets." Another offers a horse
or a buckskin.

CHILDHOOD ii

One of the relatives goes to the man who knows the ceremony. He says,
"We have been unable to bring up our children. We need you to help us."

My relative sits there. He just makes some kind of sound in his throat first.
Then he says, "Well, I'll do it. But I need a buckskin with a piece of turquoise
tied at the middle of the head and a yellow horse. Give two other things, any-
thing you wish, just so it makes four, a set of four."

They get these things together and bring them to him, and the ceremony
takes place.

Once he has accepted the task, the shaman busies himself with
the construction of the cradle. With prayers and ritual, oak, ash,
or walnut is gathered for the ovate frame, and sotol or yucca
stalk for the cross-pieces that will form the back of the cradle.

For the back part of the cradleboard, the cross-pieces are of sotol if the cradle
is for a boy, and of narrow-leafed yucca if it is for a girl. The sotol, which
is jagged edged along the leaf, is called the boy, the "he"; the yucca is called the
girl, the "she." These plants are brother and sister, we say.

This sex distinction, however, is not acceptable to all.

A canopy to shield the child's face is made of the stems of red-
barked dogwood, mock orange, or Apache plume. A piece of ash
connects the frame and the canopy, and ash or oak is used for the
footrest. The bedding is of wild mustard, and a pillow of
Solanium trifolium prevents excessive movement of the head.
The buckskin covering for the frame is usually colored with yel-
low ocher. In the buckskin which covers the top of the canopy,
symbols are cut which sometimes have sex value. The girl's cra-
dle is usually decorated with a full moon or half-moon; the boy's
cradle, with a cross or four parallel slits.

Some feel that cradleboard materials may be prepared in ad-
vance but that, once actual construction has started, the work
should be finished the same day. Others permit the outer frame
to be made on one day and the cross-pieces and canopy on an-
other. Still others have no strong conviction about the length of
time to be allotted to the process as long as the cradle is ready
when it is needed. It is assumed that all steps in the construction
have been accompanied by prayers for the welfare and long life of
the infant. The shaman ties protective amulets on the cradle —
bags of pollen, turquoise beads, and pieces of lightning-riven
wood.

12 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The public part of the ceremony begins in the early morning
before relatives and neighbors. The shaman may confine his own
part to prayer and the giving of commands to an assistant, or he
may perform the ritual acts alone. The child is marked with
pollen or specular iron ore, and pollen is thrown to the directions.
One practitioner places four dots of pollen on the face of a boy for
whom he is officiating and traces a line of pollen across the bridge
of the nose of a girl. The cradle, and sometimes the child, is held
to the cardinal directions, beginning with the east and proceed-
ing in the clockwise circuit. It is the ''way" of one shaman to
hold up both child and cradle if the ceremony is for a boy but to
gesture with the cradle only if the infant is a girl. Finally, the
cradle is faced to the east, and, after three ritual feints, the child
is placed inside. A feast and social occasion follow. According to
one informant, a child may later address a parental or grand-
parental term to the person who lifted him into the cradle, even
though no actual relationship exists.

This rite is essentially a prayer that the child be spared to
occupy the cradle in the future, for it is not until a month or more
has elapsed and "the neck is strong enough so that the head does
not hang limply" that the child is kept continuously in the cra-
dle. After that, the mother carries the cradle by a tumpline pass-
ing across her chest or, more infrequently, over her forehead.
Even when she travels on horseback, she often carries the cradle
strung across her hip by the carrying strap and suspended over
the side of the horse.

To the amulets and pendants supplied by the shaman the
mother generally adds some of her own. The right paw of the
badger, with grass substituted for the bone, is hung on the cradle
to guard the child from fright. Such protection is important, for
fright lies at the root of a number of serious illnesses. Humming-
bird claws and pieces of wildcat skin also act as cradle charms.
To ward off colds and other sickness, a length of cholla wood is
often tied on the cradle. When anything is wrong with the child,
a growth found on the creosote bush is suspended from the
canopy. It is a general rule that no one may step over a child or a
cradle.

CHILDHOOD 13

When the baby is from a week to a few months old, his mother
or his maternal grandmother pierces his ears. To do this she ap-
plies something hot to the ear and then punctures it with a strong
thorn or a sharp bone. The child learns "to hear things sooner"
and obeys more quickly if this is done promptly. "When the
ears are not pierced, the child cannot be controlled; he will be
wild and go to the bad. It is believed that children grow faster
too if this is done." Pendants of white beads or turquoise are
strung from the ears of very young children, and this mode of
ornamentation continues throughout life.

Sexual intercourse between a man and his wife is not resumed
until the child has been weaned. During this period of almost
three years the couple is expected to remain continent. Actually,
some men contrive to "sneak around" and "find easy women"
with whom to have relations. But social pressure operates to en-
force this rule of continence strictly in the majority of cases. A
man so importunate as to demand connection with his wife too
soon is subject to sharp criticism and is said to have acted
"against" his growing child. "There is a man whose child is not
walking yet, and his wife is pregnant. The Indians think he is no
good. We are ashamed to have a second child on the way before
a first is weaned."

Because the mother's milk supply has been stopped or altered
by her new pregnancy, the nursing infant is "starved" and upset
and is likely to become a weakling. In such an emergency an-
other minor rite is arranged:

There's a hair-cutting ceremony that I'm going to tell you about. Let us
say a child is only a year, old and the mother is pregnant again while that child
is still nursing. Then the little child that is only a year old is sick; it has stom-
ach trouble. Something must be done for that child.

When this happens, the mother usually takes the child to an old woman or
someone who knows what to do. This old woman cuts the child's hair and puts
red paint over the child's body. Then she gives it some kind of medicine.

Polygyny, though it is not widely practiced, exists, and a man
with more than one wife "is in a good position, for when one of
his wives is pregnant or has a nursing child, he can go to the
other."

i4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Once the child is old enough for the cradleboard, it becomes
his almost permanent home for a number of months. This con-
tinuous stay in the cradle causes a slight occipital flattening of
the head. The baby is laced in tightly and is removed only occa-
sionally. He may even be left in the cradle while he is nursed.
He does have to be taken out when the soft grass, moss, or pul-
verized wild-rose bark, used as padding and as absorbent mate-
rial for the discharges, needs renewing. To prevent chafing, the
child is dusted with powder scraped from the bark of the heart-
leafed willow. A very young child is bathed in a decoction ob-
tained by boiling the plant Drymaria jendleri "to make the skin
strong."

As the child becomes more active and restless, beads and
jingles of various kinds are strung from the canopy to engage his
attention. After he is six or seven months old he is allowed more
time outside the cradle and crawls vigorously around the camp.

During this crawling stage the child must be carefully
watched, lest he come in contact with baneful substances which
can cause sickness — worms, certain insects, and feathers from
evil birds such as the owl or the crow. Dogs are considered par-
ticularly inappropriate in a camp where there is a small child.

If you have a little child crawling around and suddenly a dog barks at it and
scares it, they say that the fright will go inside that child and make its heart
sick. So they don't like dogs around much. If you have one, some man might
come along and say, "Why do you have that dog around? Don't you know it is
no good? It might scare your children and make them sick."

When a child is stillborn or dies while it is being carried in the
cradle, its body is hastily buried in a talus slope and is covered by
rocks, branches, and earth. The cradle, if it has already been
made, has a different destination:

They take the cradle and cut it so it will be recognized; cut slits in the buck-
skin, for instance. They hang it up in a tree which stands to the east of the en-
campment where the death took place. No one will dare to touch it. It is for-
bidden to touch it. If the cradle is still around the camp, it is hung out at the
child's death even though the child is already walking when he dies. Sometimes
the cradle is put in a place in a bluff.

CHILDHOOD 15

Occasionally, a cradle is burned at the death of the child. This
alternative usage conforms to the customary death practices,
for all of an adult's combustible possessions are ordinarily de-
stroyed by fire at his demise.

A still serviceable cradle, if the child for whom it was made is
alive and healthy, may be used for a newborn sibling of the same
sex. Nevertheless, a cradle ceremony is held for the new baby.
The more usual practice is to fashion a separate cradle for each
child.

There are no conventionalized cradlesongs, but the mother
often croons some such improvised lullaby as, "Little baby, go to
sleep again." "Sometimes it goes way up and makes you feel
sorry for the baby. It almost makes you want to cry." To quiet
a fretful child, a man or a woman swings the cradle and sings a
vigorous tune accompanied by such words as:

This, my little baby!
This, my little baby!

FIRST STEPS

Life is conceived as a path along which individuals must con-
stantly be helped by ritual devices. This trail must be followed
exactly as the heroes of mythical times are said to have jour-
neyed along it. It is appropriate, therefore, that the baby's first
steps should be ceremonially celebrated.

Since this rite is purely symbolic in nature, it may occur before
the child actually begins to walk or some time afterward. It will
not take place until the child is at least seven months old, and it
has ordinarily been held before he is two years of age. On this
occasion the infant dons his first moccasins, an aspect of the rite
which gives it its name, "Putting on Moccasins." As in the other
rites, practitioners who "know" this particular ceremony must
be hired. Depending on their "way" and the wealth and impor-
tance of the family sponsoring the occasion, the ceremony will
vary in detail. The account that follows summaries the basic
pattern.

16 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

There is a ceremony held over a child when it just begins to walk Men

and women who know how may carry on this ceremony for the child. They get
the power through Child of the Water [the culture hero].4 It is done to keep the
child healthy and strong, and because Child of the Water, when he started to
walk, had a ceremony like this one.

The family .... has to have a lot of meat and fruit ready. A feast is an-
nounced just like the one held at the girl's puberty rite. Many are invited. When
a boy goes through this ceremony, they call him Child of the Water. When a
girl goes through it, they call her White Painted Woman [the mother of the cul-
ture hero]. Every child should go through it.

When my son first began to walk, he had a good ceremony. T. and Old Man
D. carried it out. They had power from Child of the Water.

D. directed my wife in the making of the buckskin outfit. It has to be made
from the skin of a black-tailed buck for a boy. In D.'s ceremony just a shirt and
moccasins are made for the boy. For a girl the outfit has to be made from the skin
of a black-tailed doe. Crescents and stars and crosses were the designs. The
same designs are used on the girl's clothes when the ceremony is for a girl.

They wait for the new or the full moon before beginning this ceremony.
This time they waited for the new moon. They start just as early as they can.
Early in the morning many came to the place where I lived. We had plenty there
for them to eat. We had presents for everyone, too — fruit and tobacco and other
things. J. B. helped me with this because he wanted the ceremony held. He is a
relative on my wife's side. My father-in-law brought some of these things too,
and his sisters helped also. My wife's sisters helped with the cooking.

They had a big hoop-and-pole game5 going there too. P. and others who knew
the ceremony well were off playing this game while they waited for the feast that
was to follow.

After some prayers T. marked everyone with pollen. He put some on the head
and above the nose of both men and women, the way they do at the girl's puberty
rite. This was done just before sunup. At sunrise he took the boy and lifted him
toward the east, raising him four times. He did the same to the south and the
west and the north. Then he set him down.

With pollen he made footprints on a piece of white buckskin just as White
Painted Women made them in the story of the killing of the monsters. We took
the boy. I was holding him on one side, and T. was on the other. We led him
through these footprints. T. said a prayer about Child of the Water and his first
step just as the boy took the first step. He said another prayer for the second
step and went on until four prayers and four steps were over. Then the boy
took four steps by himself. As he did so, they said, "May he have good fortune."
Now we turned the boy clockwise and brought him back, and he walked the
four steps in the same way again. Four times we walked him like this. Then we

4 Actually the rite can be obtained through other sources as well.

5 For a description of the game see pp. 448-50.

CHILDHOOD 17

took him in a clockwise circle four times. After four prayers, T. sang four songs.
Then we sat down.

Next T., and after him all the others, marked that little boy just as the girl
is marked in the puberty rite. After that, T. prayed, took a drum, beat it four
times, and started to sing. All those who knew his songs helped with the singing.
Four songs were sung before he stopped. They were about Life Giver [another
name for Yusn], White Painted Woman, and Child of the Water, of how the
earth was made and how the fruit grew, of how Child of the Water was born and
reared under the fire and how the monsters were killed.

Now prayers were said by D., and another set of songs began. The people
were dancing in there, women and men, boys and girls. They danced in place.
The women uttered that call of applause6 when the names of Child of the Water
and White Painted Woman were mentioned.

There were two more sets of prayers and songs. D. said the prayers. They
had me sit in the center with the boy, and they all danced around us. The boy
was not bashful. He danced up and down and looked around. He was only about
a year and nine months old.

D. and T. said the last set of four prayers. When the people playing the hoop-
and-pole game heard about this, they all came up, for they knew we had presents
there to give and that the end of the ceremony was near.

D. picked up the moccasins. He put pollen on them and lifted them to the
directions. He put pollen on the boy's foot and put the right moccasin on first,
then the left. "Now you can run," he said. The boy put his foot right in; he
was glad to do it. Everyone said, "He's just like his father."

Finally the presents were blessed. D. and T. put pollen all over the baskets
of fruit and presents, and a man began passing out these things to the people.
He gave some to D. and T. first. He gave them tobacco. Then sweets were
passed to the children. Then other gifts were distributed. After this was over,
the big meal began. They feasted that day. That night T. lifted the boy up to
the moon from the four directions so that he would grow tall.

SPRING HAIR-CUTTING CEREMONY

The spring, usually the spring following the first-moccasins
ceremony, "when everything is starting to grow and the grass is
coming up," is chosen as the appropriate time for a brief hair-
cutting rite. The child is brought to a shaman who "knows"
supernatural power useful in safeguarding and training children.
The man or woman selected must have thick hair. "If a man
performs this ceremony and the child grows up to be a fine one,
other parents come to him."

6 A high-pitched call of the woman, signifying reverent or ceremonial ap-
plause.

1 8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The minutiae of the ceremonies differ, but a composite de-
scription, distilled from some half-dozen separate accounts, re-
duces to the following elements. Pollen from cattail or from one
of a number of other sources is applied to the cheeks and head of
the child four-times and scattered clockwise to the cardinal direc-
tions. Then his hair, with the exception of one or more locks, is
closely cropped. Meanwhile the shaman prays for his long life
and good health. The shaman may cut off a lock of his own and
mix it with the shorn hair, saying, "May this child's hair be as
thick as mine." The hair is usually placed in a fruit-bearing tree
with this prayer, "May many seasons come and the child live
long." The pollen on the child's face is not removed but is al-
lowed to wear away. Each boy and girl should undergo this cere-
mony at least once. Ideally, the rite should be repeated for four
successive springs, with the same individual officiating.

It is about this time that weaning takes place. Gradually, as
teeth appear, the child is introduced to light foods so "it will not
be so hungry and demand the nipple so much." Sometimes the
baby is simply forced away from the breast and given to under-
stand that he must henceforth depend on other food. More often
something sour or peppery, like chili, is put on the nipples. The
child is told that the milk "is this way now" and rapidly loses
interest in nursing.

SURROUNDINGS

The household into which the child is born is one of a cluster
of elementary families related through the maternal line. Near
an older man and woman reside their unmarried sons and daugh-
ters, their married daughters and the sons-in-law, their daugh-
ters' daughters (married and unmarried), and their daughters'
unmarried sons. The number of separate dwellings varies accord-
ing to the size of the group and the ages and marital status of the
individuals involved. Each daughter, upon marriage, occupies a
separate dwelling with her husband. Ordinarily, an unmarried
son lives in his parents' household, but an adult unmarried son
might have his own adjoining dwelling.

It is with the members of this maternal extended family that

CHILDHOOD 19

the child has his earliest and most meaningful contacts. In his
own household live his parents and his brothers and sisters. Only
adoption or exceptional circumstances bring others into the
home. Within easy reach are the maternal grandparents, the
mother's sisters and their husbands and children, and the moth-
er's unmarried brothers.

The child is not entirely cut off from other contacts. The ex-
tended family from which his father has come may be located in
the same vicinity. Then the paternal relatives will see him often
and show great affection for him.

Kinship is reckoned bilaterally. There are no special modes of
address or obligations owed to maternal relatives which are with-
held from paternal relatives. That the mother's kin figure so
prominently is a mechanical reaction to the rule of residence and
the scattered and isolated state of the extended families rather
than to any theories concerning the closeness or remoteness of
particular lines of kin.

The adult men the child sees are dressed in long-sleeved buck-
skin shirts, with rounded neck opening and with fringe at the
shoulders and at the lower ends of the sleeves. They also wear
broad loincloths of the same material which fall to a point just
above the knees in front and hang in back "just high enough so
they won't be stepped on." For footgear they have knee-high
moccasins with uppers turned down in folds. These folds are con-
venient places in which to carry knives or small objects. Often
an upward-curving, disk-shaped piece about an inch and a half
in diameter projects beyond the toe. This is really a portion of
the rawhide sole which has been pounded, moistened, and sewed
into position at either side. When it dries, it stays fixed. This
projection is found most often on moccasins made for special or
dress occasions. "The upturned toe is for decoration only; it's of
no special use. In fact, a person sometimes trips on it."

The high boot is the characteristic type, but, when buckskin
is scarce, low-cut moccasins suffice. Sometimes high moccasins
are worn in cold weather and low ones in summer. Among the
members of the Eastern Chiricahua band, but not the Southern
and Central Chiricahua, the low-cut moccasins are used almost

20 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

as frequently as the others. In the two bands which favor the
high moccasin, the possession of a pair of this type is a point of
prestige: "The moccasin is worn high when you are able to have
this kind. All people of influence had them this way." The seam
line at the foot, especially on "dress" moccasins, is often painted
red, the upturned portion of the toe may be variously painted,
too, and sometimes the folded portion of the upper or the entire
moccasin is colored with yellow ocher.

When the man is out hunting, raiding, or fighting, he wears a
belt of buckskin or rawhide to which a knife sheath is attached,
but in times of peace he seldom takes the trouble to don this
when he is around camp.

After the spring ceremony the hair is allowed to grow. "We
all wear long hair. A person doesn't dare cut his hair off with a
knife. He has to take good care of his hair. To cut it brings bad
luck. The only time you do that is when a member of your fam-
ily has died." A man leaves his hair unbraided. He pushes it to
the sides, out of his eyes and over his shoulders, and it is held in
place by a band which crosses his forehead.

Yucca root, pounded, is used for shampooing the hair. "After
washing the hair, they use fat on it to make it stick together.
Also marrow from the shinbone of a deer is used for this pur-
pose."

The faces of the men are smooth; all facial hair is plucked with
the fingernails as soon as it is noticed, because "the Chiricahua
don't like whiskers." There are exceptions, of course. "There is
one man who has let his beard grow for good luck. He told me
that when he was young he had a dream that he would have good
luck if he let his beard grow. He is over sixty years old now and
still has a moustache."

At times of dance and celebration a mixture of grease and red
ocher is rubbed on the cheeks, and there are other face paints.
"Paint is used for decoration when there is any gathering or
dance. It can be put on at any time. Sometimes a person puts
circles on each cheek; sometimes some other markings. A few
put a streak of sticky mescal juice on each side of the face."

In addition to decorative face-painting, there is a great deal of

CHILDHOOD 21

painting for ritual reasons. The coloring of the patient's face by
the shaman (often with sacred substances such as pollen, specu-
lar iron ore, or white clay) is one of the important elements of the
ceremonial pattern. Thus the child becomes used to seeing indi-
viduals whose faces are marked with lines of white clay or whose
cheeks are decorated with symbols of the sun, moon, stars, or
various constellations.

The men tattoo themselves but limit the area to the inner part
of the arms "because there is more flesh there and it is more
tender." The colors used are red and blue-black. The red is ob-
tained from red ocher or the juice of ripe prickly pears; the black,
from charcoal. The material is laid on the skin, moistened, and
punched in with a cactus thorn. Typical designs are stars, con-
stellations, and zigzag lines symbolizing lightning. Sometimes
these relate to the shamanistic rites of the individual. For in-
stance, one man who claims power from lightning has tattooed
markings representative of his tutelary. But most tattooing is
merely decorative. In time the designs lose their sharpness and
after many years can scarcely be distinguished.

The men have earrings, necklaces, bracelets, bandoleers, and
pendants. Turquoise and white shell beads are worn. "The 'an-
cient people' [prehistoric Pueblo inhabitants] gave us the tur-
quoise. These people were careless with the stones, and the Chi-
ricahua pick them up." Beads are also made from the segments
of a long root (Hi /aria cenchroides?) and from the seeds of the
mountainlaurel. Many of these ornaments are primarily of reli-
gious and protective value.

Abalone shell, too, is used in ritual contexts and is frequently
worn. "People cut out a piece, drill a hole through it, and wear
it. Often they are directed to do this by a shaman after he has
cured them. The shaman himself might give the abalone to the
patient. A piece of it is often fastened right to the hair."

A sachet of mint may be worn, particularly by young men
who wish to make themselves attractive to the girls.

The woman wears a two-piece dress of buckskin — an upper
garment and a medium-length skirt. High-topped moccasins

22 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

(women never wear the low-cut type) complete the costume.
These moccasins often have the upturned toe.

Young women, and many middle-aged women too, part the
hair, draw it together at the back, wrap it up in a knot at the
nape, tie it, and cover it with an hour-glass-shaped hide form.
Older women tend to wear their hair hanging loosely; "but, if it
is in their way, they fix it up too." As a woman advances in age,
she devotes less attention to hair-grooming, though there is great
individual variation in the time at which these changes take
place. Though some rather young women have the hair loose, a
really old woman is never seen wearing the hair form.

Face-painting of women follows the conventions noted for
men. Women tattoo also. In addition to tattoo markings on the
arms, they place a dot on either cheek and often a figure, such as
a circle or a wavy or serrated line, on the forehead. One in-
formant insisted that the facial tattooing of the women is an
innovation.

Women, like men, make lavish use of pendants and ornaments
of stone, shell, and other materials; and many of these objects,
too, are really amulets.

Very young children, particularly when the weather is mild,
are burdened with little or no clothing. They play around the
camps happy and unkempt. "It seems as though washing their
hands and washing themselves is foreign to them." When clothes
are made for them, the garments are modeled after those worn
by adults. Sometimes a child's hair is gathered at the sides and
"tied in two bundles." But most often, until the girl assumes the
hair form and the boy the headband, the hair is left to hang
loosely. For protection from the sun, both young people and
adults wear wreaths of fresh willow.

The home in which the family lives is made by the women and
is ordinarily a circular, dome-shaped brush dwelling, with the
floor at ground level. It is seven feet high at the center and ap-
proximately eight feet in diameter. To build it, long fresh poles
of oak or willow are driven into the ground or placed in holes
made with a digging-stick. These poles, which form the frame-
work, are arranged at one-foot intervals and are bound together

CHILDHOOD 23

at the top with yucca-leaf strands. Over them a thatching of
bundles of'big bluestem grass or bear grass is tied, shingle style,
with yucca strings. A smoke hole opens above a central fireplace.
A hide, suspended at the entrance, is fixed on a cross-beam so
that it may be swung forward or backward. The doorway may
face in any direction. For waterproofing, pieces of hide are
thrown over the outer thatching, and in rainy weather, if a fire
is not needed, even the smoke hole is covered. In warm, dry
weather much of the outer roofing is stripped off. It takes ap-
proximately three days to erect a sturdy dwelling of this type.
These houses are "warm and comfortable, even though there is a
big snow."

The interior is lined with brush and grass beds over which
robes are spread. Household equipment is utilitarian and mini-
mal. Basketry receptacles include coiled shallow trays, large
twined burden baskets for gathering wild foods, and pitch-cov-
ered woven water containers. There may be a few clay pots,
unpainted and only occasionally incised. There are gourd cups
and hide, gourd, and wooden dishes. Surplus food and clothing
are stored in undecorated, envelope-like hide receptacles (par-
fleches). Ready for use are a metate and a cigar-shaped mano
(as often as not of ancient Pueblo manufacture), stone and bone
pounders, an awl, rawhide or horsetail hair ropes and tumplines,
a fire drill, and combs made of dried and folded grass or mescal
leaf.

In or around the camp are objects connected with horseman-
ship— saddles, bridles, bits, quirts, and saddlebags. Conspicu-
ous, too, are weapons of war and chase — the bow and arrows,
quiver, bow cover, shield, wrist guard, spear, sling, flint knives,
and clubs.

Ceremonial objects — the pottery drum, a deer- or elk-hoof
rattle, buckskin bags of pollen and other sacred substances, and
the particular paraphernalia attached to the rites of the individ-
uals of the household — are present but are less likely to be dis-
played.

The dwelling may contain a musical instrument or two not

24 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

necessarily connected with ritual, a one-stringed violin (probably
inspired by European models), and more infrequently a flute.

The elaborate system of affinal avoidances makes it expedient
to allow some space between the home of the man who joins the
encampment and those of his wife's relatives. Therefore, a dis-
tance of two or three hundred paces may separate two dwellings.
Each family is afforded privacy, yet relatives and neighbors are
near enough in case of danger. The comparative independence of
each home is further safeguarded by the nature of the country,
by natural barriers which often conceal one dwelling from the
next, even though the distance which separates them is not great.
Because these people raid surrounding groups as a regular course,
they have reason to fear retaliation and therefore seek to conceal
their habitations as much as possible. Desirable locations must
be near enough to streams and springs to insure an adequate
water supply and close to the highlands so that foes can be led
into a fruitless and wearying search through the hills.

The possessions, the materials from which they are made, and
the uses which they imply make it plain that the food economy
is based on the wild animals and plants of the region and that the
people must be ready to follow a seasonal food quest and to re-
move to a new locality when it becomes apparent that hunting or
gathering is more rewarding there. A popular folk tale, explica-
ble in terms of this life, tells how a man becomes separated from
the members of his family and seeks to rejoin them, passing
camp site after camp site which they have abandoned, until he
finally overtakes them. Other accounts describe the frequent
movements of the people, with those who have no horses carrying
their goods and their children.

Sometimes a single household goes off alone on an economic
errand and even remains by itself for some time. But, ordinarily,
the extended family breaks camp and moves as a body. It can,
therefore, be called the smallest unit prepared to maintain a
separate economic existence for any length of time. Thus, even
in the midst of the nomadic phase of his life, the most significant
social bonds remain undisturbed for the individual.

Despite constant movement, population tends to concentrate

CHILDHOOD 25

at points advantageous for defense or economy, and the people
who live in one vicinity are known by a name referring to the
natural feature which marks the area. Often the members of the
extended families concerned are, or become, loosely affiliated
through intermarriage, but the bonds between them need not be
more than those stemming from proximity of residence and the
common local name. These extended families which recognize
some natural feature as their home or base and share a common
name which attests to this can be referred to collectively as a
local group. The extended families of a local group may be sepa-
rated from each other by some distance. A ridge or a mountain
spur may intervene, or one camp cluster may be on one side of
the mountain which acts as their common locus while a second
extended family inhabits the other side. Nevertheless, all are
within relatively easy reach of one another and can be quickly
contacted for social, military, or religious events. Normally, the
contacts afforded by the three segments which have been out-
lined— the elementary family, the extended family, and the local
group — monopolize the experiences of the first years of the child.

EARLY TRAINING AND DISCIPLINE

The rearing and training of children are among the most
serious of adult preoccupations. Supernatural help is sometimes
sought for these purposes. Though the guidance received from
his relatives is criticized if a child grows up to be worthless, he is
not exempt from effort of his own. In the training process the
child's co-operation is necessary, and an interest in the funda-
mentals of the folkways is deemed an essential step to informed
adulthood.

The child grows into the meanings of his culture gradually and
not without amusing misinterpretations. One informant recalled
his first sight of the masked dancers. Noting that they wore kilts,
he asked a man who stood near by if they were women and was
abashed to receive a negative answer. No other explanation was
offered, and he was too shy to inquire further. It was some time
before he began to understand the character of these dance
groups.

26 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Another episode concerns a small boy who had just become
aware of the "polite form" of speech, that indirect mode of ad-
dress in use between affinal relatives who must conduct them-
selves with restraint when they are together. He approached his
grandmother's home where there were visitors before whom he
was too bashful to appear and, in this most formal manner, asked
if the guests were still inside. He was, of course, greeted by
laughter. He did not realize until later that he "was doing what
a son-in-law does who thinks his mother-in-law is in a certain
place and wants to make sure before he goes in."

A comparable mistake was made by some little boys at a girl's
puberty rite. During the ceremony the adolescent girl runs
around a basket tray placed to the east of the ceremonial struc-
ture. In her path, that the benefits of the ceremony may accrue
to them also, run young boys and even old men. "When the
girls ran around the basket, we boys were expected to run after
them. At first, we thought it was a real race, and several of us
beat the girls. Then one old man told us that it was not the way,
that we were not supposed to pass them, so we stayed behind the
other three times."

Even when the cultural ethic has been unmistakably indi-
cated, a youngster may lag in conforming to it. One man was
reluctant to talk about death or burial, for horror of such topics
is great, but he confessed that this had not always been his state
of mind:

I remember that whenever a funeral procession was passing by we were told
not to look at it. But we did look at it whenever the old people were not around.

I once asked my grandmother where they were taking a dead man who was
being carried away. She told me not to look at the procession. Then she told me
that they were putting the man away; that he couldn't walk, or dance, or eat, or
sing by himself any more; that they were putting him under the ground.

"But if they are putting him under the ground, how will he keep the dirt
out of his eyes?" I asked. She explained to me that he was all fixed up so that no
dirt would get in his eyes. It was the first time I had ever thought about death.
I began to ask more questions of my grandmother, but she told me that he
couldn't come back any more and to stop talking about it.

A few days later we children played funeral. We killed grasshoppers and
buried them.

I wasn't afraid until I was about seven years old. Then I learned about
ghosts, and from that time on I was pretty much afraid.

CHILDHOOD 27

The memory of training is synonymous with the consciousness
of self:

As far back as I can remember my father and mother directed me how to
act. They used to tell me, "Do not use a bad word which you wouldn't like to
be used to you. Do not feel that you are anyone's enemy. In playing with chil-
dren remember this: do not take anything from another child. Don't take ar-
rows away from another boy just because you are bigger than he is. Don't
take his marbles away. Don't steal from your own friends. Don't be unkind
to your playmates. If you are kind now, when you become a man you will love
your fellow-men.

"When you go to the creek and swim, don't duck anyone's children. Don't
ever fight a girl when you're playing with other children. Girls are weaker than
boys. If you fight with them, that will cause us trouble with our neighbors.

"Don't laugh at feeble old men and women. That's the worst thing you can
do. Don't criticize them and make fun of them. Don't laugh at anybody or make
fun of anybody.

"This is your camp. What little we have here is for you to eat. Don't go to
another camp with other children for a meal. Come back to your own camp
when you are hungry and then go out and play again.

"When you start to eat, act like a grown person. Just wait until things are
served to you. Do not take bread or a drink or a piece of meat before the rest
start to eat. Don't ask before the meal for things that are still cooking, as many
children do. Don't try to eat more than you want. Try to be just as polite as
you can; sit still while you eat. Do not step over another person, going around
and reaching for something.

"Don't run into another person's camp as though it was your own. Don't run
around anyone's camp. When you go to another camp, don't stand at the door.
Go right in and sit down like a grown person. Don't get into their drinking
water. Don't go out and catch or hobble horses and ride them as if they be-
longed to you the way some boys do. Do not throw stones at anybody's animals.

"When a visitor comes, do not go in front of him or step over him. Do not
cut up while the visitor is here. If you want to play, get up quietly, go behind
the visitor, and out the door."

The foundations for the sexual division of labor are early laid:

"Your work will be to make baskets and to build fires, my daughter. Keep
busy like your mother. Watch your mother as she is going through her daily
work. When you get older, you will do the same things. It doesn't hurt you to
pick up little sticks of wood and carry them in. Stay here by the fire. Watch
your mother and see what she is doing around the camp."

When my mother and father talked to both my sister and me, they would say,
"This means you. This means you," pointing to each of us. And many times
my father would say to my sister, "There are things which can be told to you

28 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

by your mother, and you can learn all the time. I have to train this boy. Of
course, he may not hear part of the time, but I have to tell him what he should
do, what he has to go through."

All adults feel the responsibility for furnishing the child with
information appropriate to his age and sex:

The boys watch the men when they are making bows and arrows; the man
calls them over, and they are forced to watch him. The women, on the other
hand, take the girls out and show them what plants to use for baskets, what clay
for pots. And at home the women weave the baskets, sew moccasins, and tan
buckskin before the girls. While they are at work, they tell the students to
watch closely so that when they reach womanhood nobody can say anything
about their being lazy or ignorant. They teach the girls to cook and advise
them about picking berries and other fruits and gathering food.

Not much importance is attributed to distinctions of status,
but there are band and local group leaders and their families who
are conscious of their position and good birth:

The word [good status] includes the idea that they are better educated in the
Indian way. More pains are taken with such children; they are kept out of mis-
chief more. They should not resent things easily. They are supposed to be
better bred. Quarreling should be beneath them. That is why, when a man is
unreasonable or insulting, they say, "Even though you are of worthless stock,
you should try to hold yourself back." I hear lots of boys of good families being
instructed by their parents. They are told to act accordingly. I heard one girl
called down by her father for gossiping. She was told that those of her family
did not do this and that she was acting like a trashy person.

"These people," said another informant, "don't want their
children to get in any mixup; they are jealous of the reputations
of their sons and daughters." So important did training in child-
hood loom to this man that he added: "A leader's son never fails
to make good, for he is trained and advised from boyhood up to
manhood."

The difference in social atmosphere with which various fam-
ilies surround the child has been noted thus:

At our camp my father and mother used to say, "Respect whoever comes to
your camp. If it is just at mealtime when they come to your camp, just tell them
to sit down. Then feed them first." Most of these Indians are this way.

But there are great differences among different families. I've noticed it. A
man might have visitors at his home just about mealtime. His wife might cook

CHILDHOOD 29

a big meal. Generally, she would serve the visitor first, even if the visitor was
a woman. After the visitors had gone, the man might get after his wife and ask
her, "Why should you feed those people first? Why didn't you feed me first?"
If a visitor happens to hear of this, he will say, "I'm sorry I went over there.
I didn't know that man was like that. I won't go over there any more."

The child must early be made sensible of certain dangers and
must learn to be quiet at a command. Enemies often lurk peril-
ously near, and the encampments may suffer severe loss before
help can be summoned. Often a child's first memories have to do
with threats concerning a dread and shadowy being who preys
upon noisy or disobedient children. "The word gode is enough.
They don't try to describe him. The children become afraid of
the word."

Another sound which the child learns to respect is the call of
the poorwill. This bird is known by the same name as the
masked dancers, for it is thought that the call of the poorwill
resembles the traditional call of the dancer as he approaches and
"worships" the fire.

When I was a boy, there was a bird that sang only at night. We were told that
its song was the voice of the clown of the masked dancers who took bad children.
We were pretty quiet and well behaved when we heard that song at night. I
realize now that the song is pretty, but when I was a child it frightened me and
I disliked it.

This masked-dancer clown, or Gray One, is one of the terrors
of childhood. "The clown is going to put you in a basket and
carry you off somewhere. Say this to a little child and he is going
to mind right away."

The threat of the clown is maintained as long as possible to
keep the children out of the way of prowling enemies and preda-
tory animals. When warnings of the clown's arrival lose their
efficacy, Gray One himself may "appear."

Suppose now that children are playing out there and won't mind at all. All
right! The parents will say, "Let's scare those children."

They go way around through the woods somewhere. Maybe a big fat man
goes out there with them, and they put white paint on him. They make him
look like the clown. Well, he goes over to the other side of the place where those
children are playing in the brush. He takes a little switch or a stick along with
him. Then, when he is about twenty yeards away, he shows his face, and one of

30 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

the boys or girls sees it and starts to run. Then the rest look and see the clown
coming. The children cry and run back to camp. And the clown will be running
after them, trying to hit them with the stick, throwing stones after them, but
being careful not to hit them. I'll tell you, those children will not go far from
camp any more!

Clowns accompany the masked dancers at the girl's puberty
rite, and parents of disobedient children, taking advantage of the
fears already engendered, arrange to have Gray One "get after"
their youngsters at this time.

The child is silenced, too, by dark forces, as fearful to adults as
to him:

From the earliest time I can remember I was afraid of the owl. It was not
until much later that I knew why — that I knew the owl can cause evil influence
to a person. When I was bad, my mother would make me listen to the hooting
of the owl. "Listen to that!" she would say, and I would settle down and be
quiet. She told me it was a bad animal and would catch me if I were bad.

The clue to the abhorrence for owls emerges in another ac-
count:

It was taught to me in camp when I was small that ghosts and owls are related
in some way. At night you go out in the woods over there by yourself. If you
are a full-blood Chiricahua, you have been taught ever since you were a small
child, "Don't ever throw anything at an owl. Never mock an owl. They are
dangerous. They are ghosts." If you are out in the woods on a dark night after
you have been taught in this way what owls are and you hear them close to you,
you certainly are frightened. In those days they claimed Indians used to get
very sick from owls, and some shamans had to work to get them well.

Other devices for subduing unruly children are used:

There was an old man whom I did not like. He used to chase me and catch
me whenever he saw me. So, when I was bad, my mother used to say that this
old man was coming for me or that she was going to give me away to him.

Sometimes the old man comes to see the recalcitrant child at
the parents' request:

When a child is mischievous, they call an old man who looks fierce. He is no
relative. The old man limps in with a sack or blanket in his hand. He acts angry
and shouts, "What's the matter?"

The father and the mother sit there. They say, "This boy won't obey. He is
always fighting. You can take him and do what you wish with him. You can
cut off his head or sit on him. We don't care. We aren't going to put up with
him any longer." The boy begins to cry.

CHILDHOOD 31

The old man says, "So, you won't obey? I'm going to check you off right
now." The boy cries louder.

"Now stop that! Listen to me. Come over to me or I'm going to get you."
The child is frightened. He tries to crawl behind his father, his mother, or his
grandmother. But they act as if they have given the old man the privilege to
do what he wants with the boy, and they push the boy forward. Then the old
man grabs him and struggles with him. He puts him in the sack and says, "Are
you going to behave?"

After that the boy is prompt and behaves. If he won't get wood, his mother
says, "All right, I'll call the old man." Then he goes for the wood at once. After
the old man works on him like this two or three times, he comes to be a good boy.

These old men look fierce and funny. The children are afraid of them. The
old man is never the grandparent. It is always an outsider. The grandparent is
there with the parents to see the child get his lesson.

Cowing children by reference to ill-favored old people is not to
be confused with a manner of joking practiced for another pur-
pose:

An old woman might joke with a little boy, calling him her husband, telling
him, "I'll be back tonight and see you," and making all kinds of funny remarks.
Here is what is behind it. They say that when an old person jokes like this it
will give long life and good luck to a little child. But [for an old person] to joke
about this concerning someone of the child's age is not good. It's against the
child.

I've been joked at like this. My aunt [a mother's sister; the child's mother
had died] used to play this trick on me. She picked out an old woman who was as
ugly as anything. She used to say, "I've brought you up and you've got to do
what I tell you. You must marry that old woman." The old woman, when
she came around, would say, "I missed you last night. Come over to my place
and I'll cook for you."

But they never mention relatives when they joke in this way. To do that
will give the child bad habits and bad ideas. If you fool like that with a grand-
mother, you'll get used to being free with relatives. You'll see your own sister
over there and have relations with her. You'll turn into a witch. To encourage
joking about marriage with relatives is just like teaching your daughter to play
cards all the time or to drink whiskey.

To return to other disciplinary measures:

For crying children we have some kind of covering. We do not whip the
child if we can help it. We put the covering over the child's head and hold it
that way until he stops crying. We do this to little children, do it several times
until they stop crying. The little children do not like to have anything over
their heads. That is one punishment.

32 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Another punishment for crying is to pour a little cup of water slowly on the
child's head. It is cold and the child stops. Then we get another cupful and ask,
"Going to cry again?" The child says, "No."

But the parent is usually gentle with the child. "If you love a
child, it is awful to hear him cry or to have other children angry
with him. You want to play with him and please him." There-
fore, forceful measures of any kind are avoided where threats
will gain the desired end. "We tell children we will put them in a
sack if they are not good. I told it to mine. I never did it
though."

Instead of punishing a child for enuresis, other means are used
to treat the difficulty. "If a child wets the bed, we put a bird's
nest there and let him wet it. Then the nest is thrown to the east,
and the child won't wet the bed any more."

Another ceremonial aid in child-training calls for the assist-
ance of the adolescent girl at the time of her puberty rite: "If a
child, a boy or a girl, is mean, they bring it to one of the girls.
She takes pollen and hits him on the mouth four times with it.
Then he can't talk evil any more and will be good."

Thoughtless children who are a nuisance to their elders are
chastised in subtle ways. One of the most popular is to send an
ill-mannered boy on a wild-goose chase. This is a favorite de-
vice of story-tellers. The old man bides his time; then, at a con-
venient stopping-place he picks up his tobacco pouch as though
he is going to smoke, assumes his most innocent expression, and

.... says to this boy, "You get 'that with which one smokes' for me. I want to
smoke with it and I left it over at the next camp." There is no such thing as "that
with which one smokes." He just sends the boy to get rid of him.

When the boy gets over to the next camp, the man there tells him, "Go over
to So-and-so's place. I just sent it over to him." Sometimes a boy chases it all
night. Then another boy cuts up, and that boy is sent over to see what hap-
pened to the first one.

"The Chiricahua loves his children and does not like to whip
them"; but, when other methods fail, he resorts to corporal pun-
ishment. "Parents never whip their children unless they won't
get up and run a race or something like that. Parents try to
make men of them, and some punish them for not minding."

CHILDHOOD 33

Though most parents exhibit self-discipline, there are in-
stances where tempers are completely lost. Of the conduct of one
woman it is reported, "I have seen her knock her little boy
around like a ball. Every time he got up, she would knock him
down again." Coolness between one father and son goes back to
the time, in the words of the latter, "when he used me just like a
slave. He whipped me, made me work, and kept me around the
house." Similar difficulties have arisen between another father
and son because of the father's severity.

E. is a pretty hard man with his wife and children. You see that stick he
carries. Well, he is always poking those children with it, and they keep away
from him as much as they can. His oldest boy is at Whitetail now. At night he
stays in an old shack there. The place where he stays is all caved in. The boy
has no blankets there but just sleeps between two old mattresses. The father is
trying to get him home, but the boy won't come because he was treated in such a
mean way. Not long ago his father tried to hit him with that stick. The boy took
the stick away and hit his father on the head instead, and then he went off to
Whitetail.

For serious breaches of etiquette or morals the adult in a posi-
tion of authority takes direct action. A child who impolitely re-
fused a gift quickly learned this:

My grandmother asked me about it. I told her that I had refused it. Then
she gave me a good box on the ear, for it is very impolite according to the Indian
custom to refuse anything that is offered. If someone gives you a gift, you must
take it, no matter what his station in life is. The lower he is, the more quickly
you must take it so as not to hurt his feelings.

At a later period, for sexual intercourse, the girl may be
whipped by her father, sometimes publicly, with a rope or a
stick. The parent expresses himself strongly during the chastise-
ment, reminding her of the good advice she has disregarded and
of the wrong she has done the family. The public nature of the
punishment acts as a lesson to other girls. The girls "cry loud
and long, and the neighbors around usually watch."

Parents who do not wish to whip their boys find other ways of
correcting them:

The parents don't like to strike their bigger boys. They get some other fellow
to punish him. If a boy doesn't obey and is rough and fights all the time, they
take him to the hoop-and-pole ground. His father says, "We'll see how tough

34 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

you are!" He drags the boy over there. Other men are there with boys. Always
there is a big crowd of men and beys at the grounds.

The father calls out, "Here is my boy. He's always in trouble. Let's see how
bad he really is. Is there any other troublesome boy here?"

Perhaps some other father has a boy who needs a good lesson. He brings his
boy forward. Maybe those two boys don't want to fight. The men hit them with
sticks until they begin. They are both troublesome boys. No one cares who
wins. The parents want them to get beaten up. The father keeps matching his
boy up against others until the boy gets a good licking. Then he takes him home.

He says to the boy, "Are you hurt? Does it hurt? We want you to go through
life without getting hurt. We want you to obey and to listen to our good words.
But you try to run us and make trouble. Now you've been licked. You see that
you are not such a man as you think. If you can't behave, we are going to take
you out and make you fight a boy who is still bigger."

Yet there is greater dependence on advice and traditional
stories for guiding the young than on physical coercion. The
tales are particularly important in this connection. Some have
no other point than to rationalize usage or belief. A child who is
reluctant to "feed" his legs, that is, to rub grease on them after
eating, is reminded of the story of the man who fed only his
stomach and was told by his legs, "Run with your belly!" when
he appealed to them to carry him out of danger.

Narratives of personal experience are aJso used to instruct the
young. Once when some boys were showing insufficient interest
in the running they were supposed to practice, an old man called
them over and offered them the following counsel:

Boys, I'm an old man and funny looking now, and you all laugh at me. But
there's one thing I always took care of, and they are pretty good still. I mean my
legs. And you can learn that from me. My legs have saved me many a time.

Once I was out with a bunch of men. I stopped behind for a few minutes and
they went ahead. I ran right into a bear there. That bear took after me. He was
right behind me when I started running. But by the time I caught up with the
others I was way ahead of him. I outran that bear. If I hadn't trained and kept
myself a good runner, I would have been killed right there. So you boys ought to
practice some running.

Many of the important myths can be told in winter only, and
so the long winter nights are often enlivened by story-telling ses-
sions. These occasions are not arranged for the exclusive benefit
of the children, but, when children are present, special care is

CHILDHOOD 3$

taken by the raconteur to point the moral. Such instruction is
not always taken in good spirits. "My father told me many
stories, but sometimes I got very sleepy. Sometimes I got con-
trary and wanted to go to bed," an informant admitted. Usual-
ly, however, the children look forward to these evenings and
often beg a grandparent to arrange one.

The most important story a child hears at this time is that of
the birth of the culture hero and his victorious encounters with
the monsters. Familiarity with this account is a necessary back-
ground for much ritual. Parts of the story are dramatized in the
girl's puberty rite. Ceremonial songs and many ritual touches
refer to the protagonists of this legend. Grama grass, for exam-
ple, appears in ceremonial contexts because Child of the Water
used it for an arrow in his encounter with Giant, one of the
monsters. Other stories of the culture hero and his mother fur-
ther acquaint the child with their holiness and the great respect
he owes them.

Scarcely less important is the set of stories devoted to the
Mountain People, supernaturals inhabiting the interiors of sa-
cred mountains. These Mountain People, who are impersonated
by the masked dancers, are described in the legends as potential
sources of supernatural power and as protectors of the tribal
territory.

Most appreciated by the young people, however, is the Coyote
cycle, a series of episodes of the pranks of the trickster. Coyote
violates all the social and sexual conventions of the society, and
this permits the narrator to contrast "Coyote's way" with more
approved conduct. Coyote stories "make a child sleepy," and so
it is often necessary to tickle his nose or tap him lightly on the
head in order to keep him awake. Through the Coyote tales the
child gets some hint of the imperfectibility of man and of the
inevitability of moral turpitude in the world. "Coyote stories are
used as a lesson. And they still blame Coyote today for the fool-
ish things humans do."

Other tales serve to imbue the child with the proper attitudes
toward baneful or helpful animal life, toward supernaturals, and
toward neighboring peoples.

36 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The child's first religious instruction centers about reverence
for the principal supernaturals and emphasizes the virtues of
humility and gratitude. "At our own camps, when a child is old
enough to understand his parents, they begin to teach him to be
religious, to use religious words, and to know Life Giver, Child of
the Water, and White Painted Woman."

The child soon comes to sense that specific favors are the re-
sult of the activity of other powers. There are no stories to record
the deeds of Life Giver, but there are numerous tales to explain
the part of other supernaturals in origins and possessions. For
instance, according to tradition, daylight was acquired as a result
of the moccasin or hidden-ball game played between the birds
and the four-footed animals. Even the origin of man is not at-
tributed to the nominal creator in the myths; what hints there
are (and these creation elements may be of European origin)
seem to credit Child of the Water with the act.

The child is given very little in the way of a formalized concep-
tion of the universe:

If we aren't shamans or have no supernatural power, we have no basis to
stand on in saying how far from us the clouds are or how far away the sun is. A
person like myself will tell you that rain comes from the clouds, because I have no
vision about it. But others will say their power causes it. I don't know just
where to begin or what to believe.

In other words, one person claims to know more than another
concerning those aspects of nature which his personal power
touches, but, since no adult should presume to conviction about
the prerogatives of his fellows, the child hears no unified philos-
phy of nature.

THE DANGERS OF CHILDHOOD

With age the individual becomes "toughened" against the as-
saults of malevolent forces; but the child is almost defenseless
before them. While adults ordinarily have protective ceremonies
and guardian spirits to warn them of danger, children are less
shielded in this way. Because of his precarious position, the
child is constantly guarded by minor rituals and devices. From
these he gains his first impressions of the forces opposed to his
welfare and of the ceremonial usages that benefit him.

CHILDHOOD 37

His first attendance at the girl's puberty rite is likely to be an
unforgettable occasion. He is brought forward that his face may
be painted with pollen by the girl. To insure his health and
growth, she may pick him up and hold him to the directions, and,
if he is small for his age, she may be asked to place her hands
under his chin at the neck and lift him.

So that a child may grow tall he is lifted four times to the new
moon. He is warned never to urinate in an anthill, lest he have
bladder stones. That he may not become lonesome in the ab-
sence of a departing relative, the traveler wets his finger with
saliva and touches it to the child's face. If, nevertheless, he does
get lonesome, a basket is placed four times over his head. When
their father is on the raid, the children are urged not to throw the
wood for the fire around carelessly, lest their parent become con-
fused about the direction to take. When a child loses a tooth, he
is counseled to say, "I hope I have another tooth," and to throw
it to the east or to tie grama grass around it and throw it to the
sun; that witches may not retrieve it and do him harm, he is told
to dispose of it at some remote spot. The child is also advised not
to watch masked dancers being decorated and never to call the
name of an impersonator whom he may recognize. To safeguard
him against sickness, a fringed buckskin amulet containing a
growth from the creosote bush may be strung around his neck.
Such practices, solemnly advised by his elders, impress the child
with the efficacy of magical aids and with the proximity and
power of the forces against which they are pitted.

During this early period, too, the child learns of the evil ani-
mals and the natural agencies toward which he must exercise
special care. "Drop that feather!" someone may call as he stoops
to pick up a buzzard feather. Or the nature of a disease resulting
from contact with Snake is explained by one who has ceremonial
power from it and knows its ways. A person with such knowledge
often takes measures that protect the children of the vicinity:

In the summer when the snakes came back and the parents were afraid that
the children would be bitten, this woman used to call many children together and
sing for them, and she would put a cross of pollen inside each moccasin for them.
She told them not to call Snake too much or it would come and not to look for it

38 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

or they would see it. She would make a buckskin string with two pieces of
turquoise tied to it and give it to anyone who was afraid of the snake. That one
had to wear it on the right foot below the ankle.

It is quite as important that the child understand the ways of
the cloud-dwelling Thunder People whose arrows are chipped
flints found throughout Chiricahua country. The children are
directed to make a respectful spitting noise when the lightning
flashes and to refrain from eating during a storm. Sage is pointed
out as a protective plant which may be worn in the hair during a
storm. Nothing red should be displayed at such a time, they are
told, for red is associated with the lightning flash and may draw
it.

While the child is very young, adults take the proper steps to
protect him from danger. But, as he grows old enough to under-
stand ideas and to react consistently to them, more responsibility
for his own safety is transferred to him. Thus, quite small chil-
dren not only depend upon the amulets provided for them but
pick and wear the sage which wards off the lightning, dispose of a
loose tooth, and extend due respect to masked dancers. Advice
and guidance are freely given, but the response which consti-
tutes growth and fulfilment is, as far as possible, elicited from the
child himself. The prevailing theme in things nonritual as well
as ritual is that the youngster must learn to do for himself tomor-
row what is done for him today.

Since most ceremonies are curative rites and are of frequent
occurrence, it is almost inevitable that, while the child is still
very young, he will witness a full-length ceremony. Very often
the first shamanistic performance a child remembers is one in
which he was the patient:

At this time, when I was about six years old, I saw the first ceremony I can
remember. It was given for me. I don't know what was the matter with me, but
at that time I was very slim and underweight, and it may have been for a general
run-down condition. I know I was taken to the shaman's house. I was lying on a
bed in the middle of the room. My grandmother was there. My mother, but not
my father, was there. My father couldn't be there because my mother's mother
was present. Other people whom I did not know were sitting around. The man
who was curing me sang. Later on I was told that he had forbidden me to eat the
head and liver of any animal. Whenever they had liver after that, they had
something else for me. At big gatherings where there was head, I would not eat
any of it.

CHILDHOOD 39

Another man describes the first ceremony he recalls:

My father once cured me with his ceremony. I was a pretty small boy. I can
hardly remember it. My father says that I must have been about six years old.
Maybe I was seven.

I got very, very sick. My mother and my father thought I was going to die.
This was out in the mountains. Of course, my father knew in his own way how to
use his power and cure people. So my father went to work on me during part of
the day and a good part of the night, I know. While he was carrying on this
ceremony for me, I went blind, completely blind.

Well, he got me a little better from my sickness, but after I got well I was
blind. It seemed as though my eyes were back in my head, and they hurt badly.
It looked as though a different sickness had come over my eyes. It was just as
though something was turning way back in my head.

My father was very good at the masked-dancer ceremony. He just made a
mask and horns [frame or uprights surmounting the mask] and decorated them
as though they were going to be put on a dancer. He made the sticks too [wooden
wands carried by the masked dancer].

He had the mask in his right hand and was shaking it in front of me. He was
singing those ceremonial songs. Every time he sang a song he held that mask
to my head this way and that, to my eyes and all over me. I was half-sitting up,
on a slant. I couldn't see, but I knew what he was doing and what he was saying.
I remember it.

And my father was crying part of the time; I could hear him. He said, "Why
not punish me this way? I've lived here many years on earth. I've seen what it
looks like. I know how hard it is to live through this world. Don't kill that poor
little child. He didn't harm anyone. I love him. Don't let him go. I want him to
live to an old age in this world." He said, "If you want to kill anybody in this
family, kill me. Take me. I know you can help me relieve this poor child from
his sickness, and there's no reason why you should act this way to me." He was
angry about this, angry at his own power. I heard him arguing with his power.
He tried pretty hard. "Well," he said to his power, "if you aren't going to do
what I want you to do, if you're going to have your own way all the time, you
might as well stop talking to me from now on." He was scolding his power.

After a while he said, "Here's an eagle feather, son. I'm going to try this
eagle feather; my power wants me to try it. Because you went blind, your eyes
are going to go back, then the sickness is coming out. It's going to pop out and
it's going to kill you. This is my last chance for you. If this doesn't work, I'm
going to give up all hope." He said he saw it in a vision, a spirit talked to him.
I don't know who was talking to him. I couldn't have seen if someone had been
there. My mother didn't see anyone and she was sitting there. But he knew
what he was doing, I guess.

He said, "If this eagle feather doesn't stay on you, you've got no chance. If it
stays on you, it will show that you are going to get your sight back and get well.
It will tell us right here, one way or the other."

4o AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

He opened my shirt. He put that feather right here on my chest, just touched
me lightly with it. I could feel it; it was sticking right on my chest. How he did
it my mother never knew; I never knew; but he knew.

I must have been blind two or three months. Then about the fourth month I
was just beginning to get my sight back. Then I recovered.

A third account is that of a ceremony presided over by Geron-
imo, the well-known leader, and attended by the informant as a
young child:

The first ceremony by Geronimo I saw was one for an older man. Some coyote
or dog had made him sick. 7 One boy got hold of the news that the ceremony was
going to be held, and we learned of it through him. We asked Geronimo if we
could attend. He said it would be all right but told us we could not scratch our-
selves or make any noise.

The ceremony began in the evening, as soon as it became dark. It took place
in an arbor outside Geronimo's home. There was a fire. Geronimo and the pa-
tient were on the west side of the fire. Geronimo sat facing the east, and the
patient lay stretched out before him. Some older people were there. They were
mostly relatives of the sick man. But it would have been all right for anyone to
come in and watch. We sat in circular fashion in the back of the shelter. But the
space to the east was left open, as, always happens at a ceremony.

Geronimo had an old black tray basket before him filled with the things he
used for the ceremony. He had a downy eagle feather in it and an abalone shell
and a bag of pollen. All these things were wrapped up in a bundle before the
ceremony began.

He rolled a cigarette and puffed to the directions first of all, beginning with
the east, puffing just once to each direction. Then he threw the cigarette away.
After smoking, he rubbed the patient with pollen. He dropped pollen on the
patient, just on certain parts of the body. He prayed to the directions as he did
this. These prayers referred to Coyote and were on the same order as the songs
which followed.

He started to sing. There were many songs, and the songs were about Coyote.
They told how Coyote was a tricky fellow, hard to see and find, and how he gave
these characteristics to Geronimo so that he could make himself invisible and
even turn into a doorway. They told how the coyote helped Geronimo in his
curing. Geronimo accompanied his singing with a drum which he beat with a
curved stick. At the end of each song he gave a call like a coyote.

When the evening star was halfway between the horizon and the zenith,
Geronimo stopped singing. This is the Chiricahua midnight. The ceremony
lasted four nights. The same prayers, songs, and procedure were gone through
for the four nights. I know that Geronimo had ghost power too. That night he

7 Note the implication that dog and coyote sickness are treated by the same
ceremony.

CHILDHOOD 41

told some of the boys that he was going to give another ceremony for a patient on
another night, this time for ghost sickness, and that they might attend if they
would promise not to scratch themselves.

As a result of such experiences the child learns to anticipate
the curative function of ceremonies, the claims of shamans, their
pattern of prayers, songs, and manipulation of sacred objects.
He becomes sensible of the close rapport between the shaman
and the power source, of the mingled flattery, pleading, and
threats which mark the attempts to force the supernatural world
to respond to the needs of man. He becomes aware of the sources
of disease — snakes, bears, coyotes, ghosts, witches; of the im-
plicit homeopathic feeling that snake sickness, for instance, re-
quires the services of a snake shaman. He gets some hint, also, of
the multiple ceremonies which such a shaman as Geronimo pos-
sesses, and he learns of the restrictions associated with ritual.

The beliefs and ceremonial usages associated with the related
concepts of death, the ghost, and the owl are very early trans-
mitted to the child by older relatives. "When I was little I never
gave any thought to death. But once I got very sick. My mother
thought I was going to die. She told me that I could not come
back if I died. This was my first scare. Since then I have been
afraid of death."

Often a child's awareness of death begins at the demise of
some relative. Then his name may be changed because the dead
person had spoken it so frequently that its use would recall the
deceased to mind. Or his hair may be cut and his appearance
thus altered. At the time of a close relative's burial, a child's
clothing is discarded and replaced, for nothing must be left as it
was before death. Efforts are now intensified to protect the child
from supernatural harm; ashes are strewn upon him and around
his bed to discourage the approach of ghosts, and he is thorough-
ly incensed with smoke from burning sage, called "ghost medi-
cine."

Whether or not the child is curious about the meanings of
death practices, they must be explained to him, for it is socially
dangerous to permit individuals, however young, to remain in
ignorance of them:

42 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When I was little I was told about death. According to what I was taught as
far back as I can remember, when someone died he would never come back to
this world; he was gone. I was told that I must therefore never again call his
name, for I might accidentally say his name in the presence of his parents or other
relatives and they might scold me for it or slap my mouth. The parents taught
the children that it is an insult to another person to call the name of his dead
relative. If I was a little fellow and didn't know any better, someone might have
slapped my mouth; then the families might have been angry, and there might
have been trouble.

I was told that you never watch burial parties just to see what is going on.
Men and women show that they sympathize with those people who are carrying
their relative to the mountains by getting out and crying when they go by, even
though they are not related. You should never watch unless you are crying like
this for them. Children should not watch at all.

At first, little attempt is made to enlarge upon the precise
place of the owl in the death complex. But, as the child grows
older, the nexus between ghost and owl is clarified:

When I was young this is what I heard the old Indians say about ghosts and
owls. They said that owls are part of ghosts. A night or so after a death you hear
an owl close to the camp where the person died. Not only in that camp but in
other camps near by the people hear that owl calling. They say, "That person is
back over there again!"

They claimed that if the dead man had a horse left alive there, or if any of his
clothes were there, he would come back every night until his possessions were
destroyed. He would come back after his things. If you had not destroyed what
belonged to the dead man, the things he had had his hands on during his life, the
owl would come every now and then, perhaps often, they said. Then it might
bring sickness or bad luck to that family. That's the way I heard it long ago.

And so to prevent sickness, if an owl cried around the camp, they set fire to a
stick of wood, carried it outside, and threw it in the direction of the owl. Then it
stopped [hooting].

In the following excerpt an informant recalls the manner in
which his father sought to satisfy his curiosity concerning the
destination of the dead:

I asked, "Suppose I die. Where would I go?"

My father said, "When a man dies he is just like any human being and is just
transferred to another state. He is in another world. There are mountains and
rivers there as there are here." He called it the underworld. He said, "The
habits you have on earth are carried with you. If you are a bronco-buster on
earth, you would be a bronco-buster in the other world. If you play hoop and
pole on earth a great deal, you play that game all the time in the underworld.
Whatever a person is accustomed to do on earth he will be doing down there."

CHILDHOOD 43

One of the reasons for telling the child about the underworld
is to warn him of the machinations of ghosts who strive to lure
him thither:

This is what I learned from my older relatives. The ghosts are supposed to go
around in the early part of the night and then again when it gets on toward
morning, from about two o'clock on. That's the old Chiricahua belief.

Toward morning a person will be dreaming. He dreams that ghosts are both-
ering him. He dreams of the underworld and the people there. Some of them he
knows, some he doesn't know. He sees the beautiful land. They offer him food, a
piece of yucca fruit or bread. When I was small my father and the older people
told me that if I dreamed this I should not accept the fruit, for, if you accept it,
it means that you are going to die and go to that place yourself.

The fear of the departed, and especially of departed relatives,
plays a conspicuous part in adult life, in ideas of witchcraft, in
aspects of social organization, and in shamanism. The basis for
this is solidly laid in childhood:

I was pretty thin when I was a child I used to be very much afraid too.

I was influenced a great deal by the Indian beliefs about ghosts and used to get
scared at night. I'd go over to someone else's bed and force myself upon him.
Often I'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night, thinking I had seen
someone near my bed. I'd dream of ghosts. A face would be bending over me,
laughing. It would be just an outline, no features showing.

.... I always had a tendency to look back and see if anyone was following
me when I was out at night. This is what the Chiricahua call being influenced by
ghosts; I must have been suffering from ghosts.

Sometimes the child's panic reaches such proportions that a
ceremony must be conducted over him:

Once when I was a boy we children were playing out at night. As I was com-
ing home I felt that someone was touching me. I became frightened, ran home,
fell in the door, and became sick. They performed a ghost ceremony over me.
The shaman worked a fire drill. The first sparks that came he put in my mouth.8
I came to my senses. Then the shaman prayed and finally he sang. I was small
and do not remember more of the details.

There are cases where a child's ailment, though the symptoms
are not so transparent, is finally interpreted as ghost or "dark-
ness" sickness (to use the approved euphemism) and dealt with

8 An evidence of the opposition of fire and the ghost (owl) which is believed to
exist.

44 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

accordingly: "I walked in my sleep and I talked, too, while I
walked. My father knew a ghost ceremony. He sang for me and
I stopped."

No less memorable is a child's first acquaintance with witch-
craft. For his own protection this knowledge concerning people
who use supernatural power for evil ends must be communicated
to him as soon as he is able to absorb it.

You have to hide from witch people all the time and must not go too near
them. That's what parents tell their children. "Don't go near that man. Don't
go around his camp. Don't let him see you. Don't be too free and happy in his
sight. When you pass a witch don't look toward him. Don't pay any attention

to him If they talk to you, answer. If not, pass them by and keep out of

their way. If you have something pleasant to tell them, do it; if not, pass them
by without a word."

Even ordinary instruction concerning personal cleanliness is
influenced by the same considerations:

Children were taught, "When you have to defecate, don't do it on the path
where people pass." So they would go way out

It is because of witchcraft that we are so very particular about it. Suppose a
witch or his wife or child should step on it. There is no telling what he might do
about it. He might witch you for it.

Gradually notions of witchcraft intrude into the life of the
child:

I remember that I knew about witches at a very early age, when I was four or
five years old. I was eight when I learned that S. was a witch. My grandmother
told me so. Also I heard other children say it. One time he came to N.'s encamp-
ment. We children ducked around the home because they said he was a witch. I
heard one man talking and saying that S. had tried to get married a number of
times, but that he was always refused because he was a witch. They told us to
keep out of his sight as much as possible, to refuse any gift from him, and not to
let him do anything queer to us. Also we were told to treat him with respect
when we met him so that he wouldn't do anything harmful to us. We were told
not to offend him in any circumstances.

The children were afraid of him, and when I was with them I acted this way
too. But really I was curious. I wanted to learn more about this man. So when I
was a little older I went to his place. I didn't let anyone see me. I went by a
roundabout way. I went during the day. He was lying on the bed, singing a
social dance song. He told me to come in. I expected to see something, to find
some proof of his witchcraft. But I failed to see anything. He seemed just like a
normal man to me that first time.

CHILDHOOD 45

He didn't act as though he was surprised to see me. He stopped singing and
asked me to sit down. He just talked in a social way. I don't think he suspected
the reason for my visit. I asked him for a smoke. At first he hesitated. He asked
me if I was allowed to smoke. I told him that my aunt let me smoke. Then he
gave it to me. It is unusual for an older man to give a boy a smoke. A boy
wouldn't ever ask an old Indian for a smoke; he wouldn't dare. I stayed with
him for about an hour. When I left I still thought he was a witch, though I had
no reason for it. I just thought he hadn't revealed himself.

The first few times I went to visit him I took pains not to be seen by others.
At first I thought it was something daring to do, but after a while it wore off.
Even when I was visiting him openly by myself, I used to avoid him when I was
with the other boys.

I took precautions while I was going to him though. I was afraid of being
witched. I didn't accept anything from him. Once I refused something, though I
needed it badly. I wouldn't eat there either. If he offered me food, I always ex-
plained that I had just eaten and wasn't hungry. I did take smokes though. I
wanted them pretty badly, I guess, because he could have done more harm
through tobacco than through food, since tobacco is used in ceremonies. I never
found out why he was suspected or met anybody he was supposed to have
harmed.

PLAY

It would be a mistake to suppose that childhood is little more
than an unhappy introduction to notions of death and witch-
craft. Fears exist, but the normal youngster devotes far less at-
tention to these alarming subjects than he does to his playmates
and games.

The children are amazingly resourceful in exploiting the possi-
bilities of their natural surroundings in play. Little girls, and
sometimes little boys, make beads from wild-rose hips, ground
cherries, and the scouring rush plant. Pine needles serve for ear-
rings and bracelets. The girls fashion dolls from panic grass and
string together ground cherries to form little figures. They then
make, on a tiny scale, substitutes for all the possessions they ob-
serve in their own households. Small toy homes are constructed
from a number of plants. Ferns yield pillows, blankets, and beds
for the dolls. From the Jacob's-ladder are shaped little dresses
for the doll, and these dresses are decorated with "jingles" of side-
oats grama grass. Even a miniature of the food staple, mescal,
has been found, and so the dolls go forth industriously to gather
"doll's mescal" {Androsace pinetorum). Food is generously pro-

46 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

vided at these toy encampments, wild peas often serving as the
main dish.

Not all the toys that the children make meet with parental
approval: "We used to take a flat stick, make a hole through it,
put a string through this hole, and run with it. It makes a noise.
Our parents did not want us to do this. They would always scold
us when we did it. They said it brought the wind." Besides this
rhombus or bull-roarer, the children make another object some-
what similar in effect: ''There is another noisemaker. We use a
piece of hide, cut two holes in it, and put a string through. Then
we wind up the string and pull it. It makes a noise. A good
many of the old people don't like it. They say it will bring wind
too."

The boy whips pellets of mud, lightly stuck at the end of a
willow branch, at birds and achieves considerable accuracy with
this weapon. He soon learns to make good use of the sling, a
diamond-shaped piece of hide to which one looped and one un-
looped side thong are attached. The hide is folded over upon it-
self, incasing a stone which is projected when the sling is swung
forward. A piece of elderberry, ash, reed, or walnut from which
the pith has been removed, or through which a hole has been
worked, is made into a popgun by tamping one end and forcing
another piece through until the tamp flies out with a loud report.

Many a child has learned to braid with wild iris, candy grass,
or clover. Little girls pass the time pleasantly making a long
string of the leaves of Dalea dalea and then arranging it in several
strands with leaves interlocking. From the virgin's bower plant
and a species of aster the children obtain toy hats, and Vicia is
employed as a dancing robe. The four-leafed clover is considered
lucky, and the children have contests to see who can find one
first. They blow into the choisey flower to make a sound that is
likened to the call of the fawn. The name of the plant is, accord-
ingly, "that which cries like a deer's child." Beard-tongue buds
are picked and popped. "Bird tracks" are made in the sand with
Bermuda grass, and a leaf transfixed to Bermuda grass "feet" is
called a bird.

CHILDHOOD 47

There are practical jokers, even among the children, who
throw clinging or mildly irritating grasses (Nama hispida is one)
at someone or hide them in his bed.

The children of an encampment organize expeditions to search
for certain delicacies which are not plentiful or valuable enough
to figure in adult food economy. Ground cherries, the red fruits
of the nipple cacti, and willow buds are gathered, and cotton-
wood buds are chewed like gum. The search for honey provides
another diversion:

When I was a boy, so long ago I can hardly remember it now, there was a
certain bee we used to get. When it collected honey the children caught it, split
it open, and sucked out the sweet stuff from the body. They didn't eat the whole
thing. Only children did this. I never saw grown-ups do it.

When hives are found in the trees, a smudge fire is started
under the tree and the bees are smoked out. A cliff hive is dis-
lodged by well-directed shots from slings. For a ground hive an-
other method is employed: "When the hive is in the ground a
boy stands over the small hole and lets the bees out one at a time.
Others kill each bee as it comes out. When all the bees are killed,
they dig out the hole and eat the honey."

To the stock of playthings which the child makes for himself
are added toys given him by his parents or other relatives. Little
girls are presented with buckskin dolls filled with grass,9 toy cra-
dles, water jars, and burden baskets. For the boy the obvious
plaything is a small bow and some arrows made of ocean spray,
mock orange, snowberry, willow, service berry, or Edwinia amer-
icana. As a blanket for her doll cradle the girl uses a cottontail
rabbit skin. A rabbit-skin cap, with the ears left on, is made for
the little boy.

The older boys and girls enjoy swimming, a sport which a
child begins to master at about the age of eight. A practical pur-
pose is credited to another activity:

9 These dolls are not supposed to approximate the human form too closely, for
anything that has great likeness to a human being but is not animate is sugges-
tive of a corpse. The mothers would not, at first, allow their children to have
dolls of European type, claiming that they were "too natural."

48 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

We used to chase birds and butterflies. We would let the butterflies go after
catching them. Both boys and girls did it. The old people said it would make us
fast runners. In wet weather we could catch big birds. Their wings get wet in the
rain and they can't go fast.

An unusual type of recreation involves the bat:

The boys used to build a fire at night. When the bats came by, they would
throw their moccasins at them. They would get them in the moccasins and kill
them. That's how the Indian boys used to play at night.

The children imitate many of the social and ceremonial prac-
tices of their elders:

During this time Old Man J., a lively old man, used to come out and sing for
us while we danced the masked-dancer dance in the evening. The old people
would be there and watch. We didn't dress up. The old people didn't allow us to
dress up, for it was said to bring evil influence. The songs which were sung were
N.'s songs. J. would ask him if it would be all right to sing these songs, and N.
would tell him to go ahead.

Actually the boys learn much more than the steps and songs
of the masked dancers on these occasions. For instance, the ex-
change between the two old men must have impressed upon
them that ceremonial songs are personally owned and that per-
mission must be obtained from the owner before using them.
When the children are playing masked dancer away from the
camps, they sometimes violate the rule about wearing costumes
and make headdresses to wear and wands to carry.

Social dances are of increasing interest to the children as they
grow older. "We used to dance the circle dance too, just the
boys. Sometimes the old men would join in and sing for us.
They certainly had a good time watching us."

The children organize elaborate and dramatic imitations of
adult occupations. They hunt, with tall grass as the woods and
playmates for the game animals. They go scouting and defend
themselves against enemy attacks, using spears made from sun-
flower and lupine stalks.

Boys and girls play house in a realistic manner. They build
small homes modeled after the regular residences (often making
them large enough to enter), play man and wife, entertain visi-
tors to whom they extend the amenities, and arrange feasts with
provisions concocted from sticks and mud:

CHILDHOOD 49

The girls see that at home the mother has a cradle and is carrying a baby
around. So they play mother sometimes with an Indian doll and cradle made by
their mothers. The girls carry the cradles on their backs as their mothers do.
And the boys pick up their little arrows and hunt birds just as if they were hunt-
ing deer. All the Indian children play just the way their parents live at home.
The children build little brush homes.

In this domestic play no overt sexuality is involved. The sim-
ulation of the husband-wife relationship is confined to an imita-
tion of the industrial pursuits of the adults. The absence of more
direct sexual experimentation is to be explained, doubtless, by
the fact that boys rarely continue to participate in this form of
amusement after the age of six or seven. It is then that little
boys become eager to join older male companions in hunts for
small birds and mammals and to engage in play not considered
appropriate for girls. This pleasure in manly affairs is strongly
encouraged by the elders. From the exciting hunts, arrow games,
and mimic battles of childhood the boy plunges into the rigors of
his training period. Thus he is absorbed in masculine concerns
and diverted from contacts with girls until the onset of physio-
logical maturity again awakens him to an interest in them.

Besides playing in the brush houses built for daytime games,
the boys sometimes construct beds in trees for "camping out" at
night.

You find a forked branch in a tree right by your camp. It should not be too
high; you want a place close to the ground. You can put cross-branches there
and fix it up nicely. Then you can sleep there. The boys did it mostly. I used to
do it. We did it in the summertime, just because we liked it, because we liked the
fresh air.

For the grown man the hoop-and-pole ground, from which the
women are barred, is a favorite retreat where things strictly
masculine are discussed. To play the hoop-and-pole game, two
men slide poles after a hoop; the object is to make the hoop fall
upon the butt end of the pole. Pole and hoop are marked with
incised bands, and, according to the relationship of these bands
after the throw, a count is made. The game has definite cere-
monial overtones. It is well for a man to be an expert player, for
lively betting attends every contest. Boys are eager to learn this
game:

50 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

It is dangerous to make the hoop and pole unless you know how. Not every-
one can do it, though there are many who have the right Suppose a man

knows how to do it. He will be making hoop-and-pole sets for all the men. I am
a little boy there, let us say, and he is very kind to me. So I beg him to make a
set for us boys, a little one.

He goes ahead and does it, does it with his own ceremony in such a way that
it will not harm me. He doesn't want it to harm the children with whom I play
either, and so he makes it in a ceremonial way. I suppose he prays over it, but I
never watch him. He makes a little one, just the same as the regular ones, only
smaller. When he hands it to me, he says, "All right, now you can play with
this."

The men take their hoop-and-pole sets out where there is level ground and
play there, far from the women. The women know about it and won't go over
there. The children never go around the regular grounds either. Even when the
men are not playing, the little boys do not go around there. When the little boys
play at their hoop-and-pole game, the girls have to keep away.

When a man makes a set for little boys, he instructs them in the rules for
counting and keeping score. The men like to watch the little boys playing. Many
men will go over where the small boys are playing and stand in groups and
watch. Some men count for each side, and all the boys stand there taking lessons.
When the men direct the boys in this game, they tell them it is a gambling game.
They say, "If you get to be an expert in this, when you get to manhood you can
win horses, weapons, everything."

As soon as the boy is provided with a bow and arrows he
spends a great deal of time gaining accuracy in handling them.
Arrow games are an effective means to this end, and the boy has
a variety of them from which to choose. "You are there all day
long. Sometimes you don't care to eat, you are so interested. "
The arrows used in play "are just common ones made with any
feathers — bluebird feathers, flicker feathers, feathers from any
kind of bird the size of a robin or larger. Some of them are well
made; you can shoot big animals with them if you have a good
bow. They put three feathers on the shaft."

The simplest form of arrow game is shooting for distance, the
winner collecting the arrows of his outdistanced playmates.
Shooting for accuracy takes a number of forms. In one game a
boy shoots his arrow into a bank, and his companion shoots after
him, trying to touch or "cross" the arrow of the first boy. Should
he succeed, he takes both arrows, and the loser has to send an-

CHILDHOOD 51

other arrow into the bank as a target. When the one who is
shooting misses, he must offer one of his arrows as the target.

The youngsters play their games shrewdly:

I have about five arrows and my bow. A boy of my age asks me to play. He
has a bunch of arrows too. He is good at playing this arrow game. Of course
he wants my arrows. "All right," I say, "how do you want to play?"

About fifty feet apart stand two banks with a hollow between. He says, "You
have more arrows than I have; you shoot first. Shoot your arrow from that bank
into the other bank." We decide who should shoot first. Maybe he shoots first
and his arrow sticks in the bank over there. Then I shoot. I try to shoot so that
my arrow crosses or touches his. Sometimes there is a dispute. He says, "It
doesn't touch!" and I say, "It does!" We try to look between the arrows and get
down under them to see if they touch. But pretty soon we settle it. When I cross
or touch his arrow, I walk over there and take it. He shoots another arrow, and I
shoot and get it again. I begin to stick my arrows in the ground.

I always use one arrow, my best arrow, to cross his. All arrows don't shoot
well, and so I use my good arrow to get his arrows. Pretty soon I miss. So it is
my turn to shoot into the bank and let him try for my arrows. I take the worst
arrow I have, so if he gets it, I will not lose much.

The game keeps up until one fellow gets all the arrows or we get tired.

In another shooting contest the first arrow is shot in such a
way that it will stick in the ground when it falls. This arrow can
be won only when its feathers are touched by those of a second
arrow.

Boys also shoot at a target of twisted grass. The one who hits
the target throws it up and tries to pierce it with an arrow before
it touches the ground. If he does this twice in succession, he
earns the arrows that others have unsuccessfully shot at the tar-
get. Again there are a number of modifications of this particular
game. One variant is to make a target of yucca or other mate-
rial, leaving a central hole. The boys attempt to shoot their ar-
rows through the hole. The one who first succeeds in doing so
a specified number of times wins whatever has been bet.

Another pastime is the "sliding arrow game." Here the arrow
is slid by hand along the ground, point foremost, at any level
place. The object is to touch the feathers of an arrow with the
feathers of a second arrow which is slid after it. This game de-
velops a steady hand and a good judgment of distance.

A game like blindman's buff is played with an arrow as the

52 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

prize. Someone is blindfolded, and an arrow is stuck in the
ground far from him. If he finds the arrow, he is allowed to re-
tain it. "They sometimes stick several arrows in the ground. If
he finds one, all the rest belong to him."

Children play a game that may be likened to "heads and
tails," using a bone with sides distinguished from each other by
shape or color. Sometimes the bone is spit upon and the sides are
called "wet" and "dry." If the side he has named shows upper-
most, the player in possession of the bone wins the throw and
retains the bone. Otherwise the bone changes hands. Today the
game is played with a metal knife that has a handle rough on one
side and smooth on the other.

In an exciting ball game a member of one side throws a buck-
skin ball to a member of the opposition who is standing with his
team mates in a large circle or safety zone. This individual hits
the ball with his hand, and he or one of his team mates must then
run to another safety zone some distance away. The side of the
thrower tries to retrieve the ball and hit the runner with it before
he reaches the other circle. Should the runner be struck, his op-
ponents make a rush for the safety zones, while he and his helpers
try to recover the ball and strike one of the other team with it
before he gains the circle. After the exchange, when the "ins"
and "outs" are decided, the round of pitching and batting starts
again.

The boys sometimes make clay marbles and dry them in the
sun or near the fire, but often round stones are used instead. In
one marble game a row of holes is scooped out. The order of play
is determined by seeing who can roll a marble closest to a line.
The object of the game is to roll the marble into each of the holes.
A successful play for the first hole entitles the player to try for
the second. When the row of holes has been traversed, the player
must play in the opposite direction and come back to the start-
ing-point. The first one to accomplish this is the winner. Instead
of throwing directly toward a hole, a player is entitled to try to
knock a competitor out of the way. If he strikes the marble at
which he aims, he is allowed another throw for the hole.

Another marble game calls for four players, sitting around a

CHILDHOOD 53

hollow square, one on each side of it. Two teams are involved.
Partners sit across from each other. A member of one side places
a marble in the center. A player of the opposition tries to knock
this away with one of his own. Should he succeed, his partner
retrieves both marbles, and his opponent must place another at
the center as a target. As long as this central marble is knocked
away, it must be replaced by the side furnishing it. When a
player misses, he substitutes a marble of his own, and the game
continues.

Hide-and-seek, tag, foot races, tug-of-war, and wrestling con-
tests are all popular. To begin a wrestling match, the rivals clasp
each other around the waist. At a signal each tries to down his
opponent. Almost anything is permissible, tripping included. If
one wrestler is off his feet, no matter which part of his body
touches the ground, and the other is still standing, the match is
over.

Little girls are skilful at a game comparable to jackstones.
"Four or five girls from about seven to fourteen years of age
usually play together." One way of playing is called "those
which pass each other again and again." Four stones are juggled
while the girls walk along until a certain mark is reached. In an-
other type of "rock game" an attempt is made to pick up four
stones successively with one hand and put them on the back of
the other while a fifth stone is repeatedly thrown in the air. The
stones are arranged in a row on the knuckles, starting from the
right and going to the left until each of the four knuckles is
covered. "Throwing between fingers" describes a variant in
which the stones are put, one by one, between the fingers, while
the fifth stone is tossed up. Next the palm is turned up, and the
stones are removed one by one. Another way is to cup the palm
and put the stones in it, one at a time. Although these games
with the stones are typically girls' pastimes, little boys occasion-
ally play them too.

Boys whip a pointed wooden top with a sinew string. The
making of cat's cradles or string figures furnishes year-round
recreation for young and old of both sexes. There are many
forms of these figures. One, after great elaboration, comes to a

54 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

surprise ending by collapsing completely. Another represents
the bow, and still another a house.

The children seldom attempt such adult pastimes as shinny,
the stave games, and the moccasin game. They watch their
elders play them, however, and become conversant with the
principles involved.

THE CHILD AND HIS KIN

The social world to which the child is first introduced consists
of a well-organized group of kin. The significant events of his
life will be planned and made possible by his blood relatives.
Should a person be wronged, his relatives act for him and with
him; should he be accused, they shield him from vengeance. If a
man dies with grievances unavenged, his relatives perpetuate his
quarrel in a feud between families. It is they who have the re-
sponsibility of his death rites and who mourn for him.

Kinship is counted bilaterally, through the mother and
through the father equally.10 It is impossible to get any con-
vincing assurance that one kind of relative is necessarily "closer"
than another. The expressions on this point seem to be reflec-
tions of personal feelings rather than instances of the operation
of any rule.

All blood relatives are supposed to be generous and loyal, and,
in times of crisis, the appeal of a blood relative of any degree is
difficult to ignore. Nevertheless, differences of age, sex, resi-
dence, and remoteness of connection become inevitably regis-
tered in patterns of behavior.

The parent-child relationship. — The parents take primary re-
sponsibility for the support, proper rearing, and ceremonial pro-
tection of their children. The influence of the child-parent bond
is present in many forms of behavior. A man often begs for
supernatural power, for "something to live by," because of the
need of his children. One who makes a request for help, material
or spiritual, greatly strengthens his plea if he supplicates in the

10 For the kinship terms and a diagram of the kinship system see the Appendix.

CHILDHOOD $$

name of the child of the one he is addressing. In discussing any-
one, great care is taken to say nothing critical or abusive con-
cerning him before his parents or his children. One man told of a
series of fights he initiated by uttering the remark, "Your father
is messy around the ankles." He knew very well in advance
what the consequences of that observation would be. In a Coy-
ote story the trickster, after being skinned and jeered at for hav-
ing a "red shirt," retaliates against his tormentors by shouting,
"It's your father who has a red shirt!"

Despite the affection and regard which mark the parent-child
relationship, it must not be forgotten that discipline and author-
ity are the prerogatives of the father and mother. The daughter,
especially, is conditioned to lifelong obedience to parental edicts.

Four terms, the equivalents of father, mother, son, and daugh-
ter, serve to express the parent-child relationship. The term for
father can refer to no one else. The mother, likewise, is distin-
guished from her siblings. The parent-child terms differ from
others of the kinship system in two particulars. First, they are
not self-reciprocal; that is, the same term that is addressed to
the son by the father cannot mean father when the son is speak-
ing. Second, each term expresses one relationship only and is
not extended to include collateral relatives.

Uncle, aunt-nephew, niece relationships. — Of tremendous im-
portance in the child's life are the maternal uncle and aunt. The
mother's sister is likely to be present at the child's birth. She
may volunteer to nurse the baby if she has milk and the mother
has not enough. She is a permanent member of the mother's ex-
tended domestic family. A girl will have intimate contact with
this relative throughout life; a boy, at least until his marriage and
departure from the encampment. In case the mother dies, this
woman may be called upon to adopt or care for her sister's chil-
dren. She may elect to marry their widowed father" and so be-
come their stepmother. Or, since sororal polygyny is practiced,
if she is younger than her sister, she may become the second
wife of her sister's husband and, by a different route, attain the

11 See pp. 421-25.

56 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

position of stepmother to these youngsters.12 Her very closeness
to her sister, the fact that these girls have played and worked to-
gether since childhood, establishes her interest in the develop-
ment of her sister's children. The chances are that she will per-
form protective ceremonies for them, that she will give them
food and presents, that they will be frequent visitors in her home,
and that she will offer them economic assistance in times of need.

At the puberty rite of her sister's daughter, she will give gen-
erously of her labor and provisions. When her niece is about to
marry, she will doubtless act as one of the group of relatives who
passes on the desirability of the union; she will help erect the
dwelling to which the husband will be brought; and she may
furnish household necessities. When her nephew marries, her
household will contribute to the gifts to be presented to his
bride's relatives. The degree to which she participates in the in-
struction of her sister's children will vary with her own proficien-
cy. If she knows a great deal about the medicinal value of plants,
it is quite likely that she will transmit that information to her
sister's daughter as well as to her own girls.

Somewhat different are the relations between the child and the
mother's brother, for he resides with the extended domestic
family only until he marries. If he is considerably younger than
the mother, he may be around during the entire childhood of the
individual; if he is older or near her age, he may depart while the
child is yet very young. But even after he leaves the encamp-
ment through marriage, he frequently visits his parental home.
At first, to his wife's relatives, he is a stranger and an unproved
acquisition. He is bound to many of them by obligations of
avoidance, restraint, and economic assistance, but the warmer
bonds of kinship and prolonged common residence are lacking.
Therefore, until he has children of his own and his status among
his wife's relatives is established, he is likely to keep in closest
touch with his own blood kin. There is a good deal of restraint

12 When a woman marries her deceased sister's husband or becomes her sister's
co- wife, the stepmother term may be used as a self-reciprocal between her sister's
children and herself, or the mother's sister term may be continued. The first is
the more common practice.

CHILDHOOD 57

between the mother and her brother, for siblings of opposite sex,
especially after puberty, must show great respect and decorum
when they are together. Consequently, the maternal uncle best
shows his affection toward his sister by the interest he takes in
her children. There is frequent reference to his instruction of his
sister's child, especially of her son, to his economic help at many
of the crises, and to his constant friendly contact with his nieces
and nephews. There is always the possibility that the mother's
brother will marry an unrelated woman from the same local
group in which he has grown up and will continue to live near his
blood relatives.

Mother's siblings are addressed by one term, a self-reciprocal.
Thus the mother's brother, the mother's sister, the sister's son,
and the sister's daughter are all subsumed under the same kin-
ship term. In a secondary sense this term may be addressed to
other relatives, to any cousin of the mother, no matter how dis-
tantly related, and reciprocally to any female cousin's child.

In normal circumstances the father's sisters and brothers will
never be members of the same extended family as the child,
though they may be living in the same local group or vicinity.
Since their primary ties are with other family units, they have
less contact with a child than the maternal relatives. In spite of
this, they demonstrate a lively interest in him. This is particu-
larly true of the father's brother. As long as brothers inhabit the
same camp they are inseparable, and their interest in each other
and in the family line does not cease at marriage. Brother's chil-
dren are blood kin, and such kinship imposes a solidarity which
cannot be denied. "H. is my brother's daughter. No matter
how far away she is, if I am sick she comes and helps around
camp. But I have helped her as much as she has helped me. I
feel that those related in this way should show a lifelong faith-
fulness to each other in any emergency and all the time."

The fate of brothers is further linked by a levirate arrange-
ment which entitles an unmarried man to take his deceased
brother's wife and place if he and his relatives so decide. This
means that a man may in time become the stepfather of his

58 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

brother's children.13 At all the significant occasions when the
maternal relatives offer personal or economic assistance the
father's brother contributes also.

The father's sister normally has a family and duties of her
own, her brother has passed from the extended family to which
she is attached, and the sororate-levirate forms can have no
effect upon her future position in respect to her brother's off-
spring. But the restraint relationship which has existed between
this woman and her brother implies lifelong consideration. No
better way of responding to this exists than generosity toward
the brother's children. Moreover, a man who is in difficulty with
his affinal relatives, angered over his wife's behavior, or divorced
is likely to return to the extended family in which he was reared.
His sister is one of the members of this social group, and her
counsel is of great moment in the formation of decisions. These
strong ties of consanguinity are felt by the woman to include her
brother's children as well.

One term means father's brother and father's sister and is ex-
tended in use to include father's cousins, male and female. The
same term, used as a self-reciprocal, designates a brother's child
and, in an extended sense, a male cousin's child.

Brother-sister and cousin relationships . — The terminology em-
ployed to express the sibling, cousin relationship departs in prin-
ciple from other sets. There are two self-reciprocal terms in use,
but, unlike the other kinship terms, they imply sex difference or
similarity between the speaker and the person addressed. SiUis
literally signifies "sibling or cousin of the same sex as myself,"
and si/ah carries the force of "sibling or cousin of the opposite sex
from myself." Thus, when a woman says si Mis, she is speaking
of a sister or female cousin; when a man uses the same term, he
has in mind a brother or a male cousin. Conversely, when a man
says si/ah, he is referring to a sister or a female cousin, and when
a woman employs the same term, she is indicating a brother or
a male cousin. The si His term can be said to link relatives of the

13 In that case a stepfather-stepchild term may be substituted for the father's
sibling term (see n. 12, p. 56).

CHILDHOOD 59

same generation and sex; the it /ah term, relatives of the same
generation but of opposite sex.

From the comments and practices of his elders the child soon
discovers that his SiMis is designed to be his companion in experi-
ence and adventure, his confidant, his defender against misrep-
resentation or direct attack. The everyday stream of events
steadily contributes to his conception of how two brothers or two
sisters should act toward each other. His own mother and her
sister sit and sew or go after fruit or mescal plants together. His
father and his father's brother often act together in matters of
raid or warfare. When the extended family is foraging or camp-
ing by itself, the children who are thrown together in play, in
story-telling sessions, and in training are necessarily brothers,
sisters, and cousins. Because of the sexual division in industry
and social life, the child is often left with his SiMis as the avail-
able partner for play. The close identification of SiMis persists
throughout life. This fact makes reasonable the sororate-levirate
institution. If anyone is wronged or murdered, it is likely to be
his SiMis who demand retaliation.

Quite different is the Si /ah relationship. Everyone is expected
to be slightly reserved to all relatives of the opposite sex, what-
ever their age. Not even the father and his young daughters
escape this feeling: "I still kiss my daughter [age six], but I
doubt that I will when she is ten, and of course not after she has
reached the age of puberty." This restraint becomes heightened
between relatives of opposite sex of the same generation.

Brother and sister are so carefully trained to be reserved when
they are together that any inclinations to exhibit overt sexual in-
terest in each other are almost certain to be repressed. There is
the possibility, however, that young men and women more dis-
tantly related will meet and become intimate. The term Si/ah
stands as a barrier against this, for a female cousin is terminologi-
cally classified by a young man with his sister and is just as for-
bidden to him. Very often the precise relationship is difficult to
trace, but, if the young man knows that either of his parents ad-
dressed one of the girl's parents as SiMis or Si/ah, his attentions
to that girl are illicit.

60 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The child is psychologically prepared for the si/ah relationship
by the comments, stories, and actual behavior of adults: "Your
father and mother, when you and your sister are both at home,
do not say any wrong word. They are very careful." Thus the
child, as soon as he is old enough to appreciate the cross-currents
of social attitudes, becomes aware that the appearance of a si/ah
compels a certain decorum in speech and action.

A Chiricahua man and woman related in this way hardly speak to each other.
Cousins, or a sister and a brother, could not even go out walking together. They
can't joke much. Something holds them apart, so that they don't get too famil-
iar. They aren't lectured about it when they are young. They just sense it and
see it; it is taken for granted.

I notice the restraint in my own wife's family. My wife's silah [father's
brother's son] doesn't stay long when my wife is around. He has never been
known to joke with her. He will with me. She takes the attitude that she wants
to serve him when he is around. She acts in a formal way as if she wanted to
serve him and please him. This man has a sister who is quite free with my wife.
They are just reserved to the opposite sex.

In the old days those [a boy and a girl] who had the same father and mother
hardly spoke to each other. They would sit there and wouldn't say anything.
They talked to the father and mother in each other's presence, but not to each
other. If joking [risque] goes on when they are both there, one of them has to go
away to show respect.

If you come where your sister is alone, you put disgrace on the whole family.
If the mother and father aren't at home and the sister is alone, you must leave
the camp. You must stay somewhere else. You must go to the sunny side of a
hill or in the shade and sleep until your parents come home. Also, when the
whole family is together, you must show respect for your sister. This feeling be-
gins when you are about six or seven years old, when you are just big enough to
understand what is being said to you. At that age you can still play with your
sisters because perhaps you have no other playmates. But after you are fourteen
or fifteen, you don't play with your sisters any more. In the old days a boy would
not even accompany his sister to an Indian dance.

Many households where there are older children find it con-
venient to erect an additional shelter where the boy can stay if
he should find his sister the sole occupant of the family dwelling.

Brothers and sisters feel so uncomfortable in each other's
presence that they do not court situations which will throw them
together. But they are members of the same household, and it is

CHILDHOOD 6 1

not possible for them to practice total avoidance, considered the
ultimate in respect and reserve. The possibility of complete
avoidance does exist for cousins of opposite sex, however, since
they are of different households. One man who was asked how
he would demonstrate his respect for his female cousin an-
swered, "A boy shows his respect for a girl cousin by not visiting
her."

From this conception of cousin relations it is not a great jump
to total avoidance, and we find that some persons, though by no
means all, do practice such avoidance. This is the only instance
in which a true blood relative is avoided, though the married
man responds to one of the most inclusive lists of affinal avoid-
ances on record.

Avoidance of cousins of opposite sex "starts when they are old
enough to understand such things, when they have grown to
maturity, and lasts all their lives."

Silah who are cousins, not sister and brother, sometimes hide from each other.
R. hides from J.; they are cousins. They cannot see each other at all. It wouldn't
be done between sister and brother, or between two boy cousins or two girl
cousins. Cousins do it because they love each other very much and wish to show
their respect. After they start it, they are very careful what they say about each
other, for their relation is one of respect, like that of a man to his mother-in-law.

J. and S. are cousins. They have hidden from each other all their lives. When
cousins do this, they give presents to each other in the beginning, and after that
they help each other all the time. They hide from each other from that time on
just as a man hides from his mother-in-law. Either the man or the woman can
start it. You can't hide from a sister or an aunt. It is only between cousins of
opposite sex that this is done, not between two men or two women. You cannot
arrange with a cousin to use the polite form only;14 it must be hiding or nothing.
Of course, if you must speak to your cousin who hides from you, you might stand
behind a tree, and then you would use polite form in talking to her. K. and Mrs.
C. were cousins who hid from each other too.

I had a cousin. Just because she liked me, she wanted me to do it. I had been
away to school. When I got back, she gave me a saddle and bridle. Then she
asked me to hide from her. I said, "No." I told her I had been to school, that I
didn't want to go the old way, that maybe the government would get after me if
I did. So she said, "All right." This was about 1897.

14 For an explanation of polite form see pp. 171-81.

62 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

If you hide from your cousin, then anything she has, whether it is money or
property, or anything else, she will give to you. You can't refuse a request from a
person who hides from you. And it's the same for you if she needs anything.

Since cousin avoidance is voluntary, where it will lead to com-
plications or where the individuals concerned are likely to be
thrown together constantly, it is seldom begun.

If marriage between cousins is prohibited, is it not difficult, in
view of the small population, for a young person to find a suit-
able mate? Sometimes this problem does arise, and young men
have been known to journey far from their homes for the purpose
of making contacts which could lead to marriage. That the issue
does not become more serious is due to two factors : the mobility
and extensive range of these people and their anxiety to eliminate
all mention and memory of the dead. Because of the first factor,
families, except for nuclear groups of very close kin, tend to
move apart and lose contact with each other. And because the
names and antecedents of the departed are seldom mentioned,
connections between remoter kin are soon forgotten when the
families are separated.

When circumstances warrant, the cousin avoidance may be
terminated and the more ordinary manner of behavior toward a
relative of this degree resumed. The details of the procedure are
the same as those governing the abrogation of affinal avoidance.15

Grandparent-grandchild relationships. — The wish for long life
and old age is constantly expressed in prayer and ceremonial
song. The staff on which the old person leans has become a sym-
bol of this concept. As one commentator wryly observed: "They
pray for the old age staff. They say, 'Let me be old, let me have
the old age stick.' If you have the old age stick that means you
have reached a long life. But when they get it, they don't like
It.

It is considered a good omen if an old person blesses a child or
performs a ceremony over him, for even as this individual's pow-
er and ceremony have preserved him to a ripe age, they may pro-
tect the child for a generous time span. The same notion is pres-
ent in the preparation of the first cigarette. "A person's first

15 See pp. 174-75.

CHILDHOOD 63

cigarette was rolled by an old man or woman. This was done so
the person could reach the age of the one who rolled it. The old
person prayed and lit it for him."

Age brings prestige, if it is ever to come to an individual. The
band leaders are chosen from the most forceful heads of local
groups; local group leaders are the most authoritative voices of
extended families. Few men who have not lived long enough to
rear a large family and to see their daughters marry well head
extended families. With his children and grandchildren around
him and sons-in-law to do his bidding, a man may establish im-
portant alliances and gain political and economic stature. That
older persons figure so prominently in the ceremonial and politi-
cal life is significant for the grandparent-grandchild relations.

The rule of matrilocal residence permits constant contact be-
tween the child and his mother's parents. These kin are usually
the oldest and, while they retain their vigor, the most respected
members of the extended family. The family is the realization
of the line they have founded. Their daughters and unmarried
sons owe them obedience and deference, and their sons-in-law
are bound and subordinated to them by strict social and eco-
nomic rules.

The maternal grandparents concern themselves in countless
ways with the child's development. They are constantly con-
sulted by their daughter on problems of child-rearing. They are
present at the first ceremonies held for the baby and contribute
whatever is needed for these occasions. It is often one of these
grandparents who acts as the cradle-maker and shaman of the
cradle ceremony. They may suggest a first name for their grand-
child. Their home is always open to him, and it is not unusual
for him to sleep there. If his mother dies and his father leaves
the extended family because it cannot offer him a suitable mate,
the maternal grandparents are likely to rear the child.

My father was left an orphan at about six years of age and was brought up by
his grandparent. It was his mother's father who took care of him. This man
lived in Chiricahua country. My father lived there with him until he was twelve
or fifteen years old. He was with the old man all the time. When he told about it
in after years, he said he often wondered why this old man took such an interest
in him. He often wondered if he was worth it, worth having so much attention

64 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

paid to him. My father said the old man was kind to him, was always gentle with
him, and used to advise him. He took more trouble with him than other relatives
did.

The maternal grandparents, who are the approved raconteurs
for the children of the extended family, function to a consider-
able degree as teachers, for a good deal of instruction for the
young comes obliquely through stories.

The influence of the maternal grandparents is not limited to
oral instruction. While the younger men are hunting or raiding
and the younger women are away gathering food or getting wood
and water, the care of the children and the performance of camp
tasks fall to the older people. The grandfather makes arrows,
ropes, and many other objects. Often his grandson watches him
or even assists him. The grandmother cooks, sews, and weaves
baskets, occasionally pausing to explain her methods to her
granddaughter.

Ceremonial knowledge may also be received from the grand-
parent. Many rites result from personal experiences with the
supernatural, but a certain number are passed along to others by
those who have had such individual encounters. When a cere-
mony is transmitted, it is most often taught to a relative. Usual-
ly a shaman is reluctant to reveal his secrets until he feels that
the end of his life is near and that his ceremony will perish with
him unless a successor is found. Thus there is a tendency for
very old persons to seek younger relatives as their understudies
in things ceremonial. The grandchild often proves a promising
candidate, especially if he is not too young during his grand-
parent's declining years.

The paternal grandparents usually cannot hope for a great
deal of contact with their son's child. At marriage their son has
left their encampment, and his obligations are to his wife's rela-
tives. Yet when it happens that the father's parents do live near
the extended family into which their son has married, they take
pleasure in being with their grandchildren and may even rival
the maternal grandparents in solicitude.

Four kinship terms, one for each grandparent, label the grand-
parent-grandchild relationship. Since they are used as self-

CHILDHOOD 65

reciprocals, one term, in its primary sense, stands for mother's
mother and also, when a woman is speaking, for daughter's child;
another indicates father's mother and likewise, when a woman is
speaking, son's child, etc.

It is a feature of this kinship system that siblings and cousins
of the grandparent are addressed by the same term as the grand-
parent, regardless of sex. For example, the term for mother's
mother also designates her sisters, brothers, and cousins. Recip-
rocally, the brothers or sisters of a woman will address this same
term to their sister's daughter's child, male or female.

For the great-grandparent-great-grandchild relationship the
terms of the grandparent-grandchild set are utilized. There is no
strong feeling concerning the functions of the great-grandparents
and no specialization of terminology. If they are active enough
to participate in social, economic, and ceremonial matters, they
are treated much as are grandparents. It is the duty of children
to support old people who are so far past their prime, and mem-
bers of the great-grandparent generation receive the extra consid-
eration to which their extreme age entitles them.

childhood's end

Childhood is, strictly speaking, a period of preparation for
adult standards. The view of the world is not softened for the
young beholder. The child and the adult often listen together to
accounts of the rigors of the hunt, of the hardships and glories
of war, and of the cruelties of the enemy, "As soon as I was old
enough to know," said one informant, "I was told who were our
enemies." Another man, prefaced an exceptionally vivid descrip-
tion of a war dance with the remark, "When I was just old
enough to understand and remember it, I saw them go through
this performance."

The child is early introduced to the goals and values of the
society. An old man mentioned hunting as one of the first experi-
ences he could recall. He was with older children who were
shooting birds with slings, and he followed them around to see
what they were doing.

66 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Boys begin their interest in horsemanship while they are still
very young:

The Chiricahua would hobble their horses way off in the woods. A boy would
play with the horse when no one was watching. Children from seven years of age
and on would go and learn by themselves when the older people didn't even know
about it. There were always some gentle horses for the boys to ride. I would
crawl on a horse when I was about seven. I used to put my foot on his leg, get
hold of his mane, and crawl up on his back. Sometimes I fell off again, but after
a while I would get on the horse's back.

When the boy is sufficiently strong to handle a bow and ar-
rows, some member of the extended family — the father, the
mother's brother, or the grandfather — provides him with them
and gives him the necessary advice.

When I was small I didn't know how to make a bow and arrows myself. My
father said, "First, I'm going to make you learn how to hunt." He made a bow
and arrows for me. Children use a small wooden arrow with a wooden point, but
they can shoot a long way with it, for they have a good bow.

My father said, "Go ahead, son, and shoot birds and squirrels and any small
things. But, before you try, I must tell you that these little birds and animals are
not tame. They see you just as soon as you come in sight of them. The squirrels,
as soon as they see you come anywhere near them, run away. You must see the
squirrel before it sees you. You can't just run up to squirrels and shoot them,
because they are wild. If you have to crawl to get where your arrow can hit a
squirrel, do it.

"A bird is the same way. If he is over there on a limb, you must come around
so that you can get within range of him. Part of the time you must crawl, be-
cause he is watching, and in that way you can get within range and shoot him. In
hunting you must go very slowly and softly, not rattling stones with your feet or
making rocks roll down a steep place. Go carefully; creep up to your game.

"It will be just the same when you hunt deer. Then you will still have to go
slyly and carefully. Deer can see you before you see them. The deer places him-
self where he can see very well. You must look for him. You must go slyly up to
him as if you were a fox. It's the same if you are hunting antelopes or any other
animals; you must be very cautious."

That is the teaching for a little boy when he is given a bow and arrows. So
I did these things, and it worked out exactly as he said.

Most adults, when they present the boy with his first bow, ad-
vise him to swallow whole the raw heart of the first kill he makes
to guarantee continued abundance from the hunt.

But no amount of good advice will prepare a youth for hunting

CHILDHOOD 67

and raiding unless he reaches a high point of physical fitness. At
first it is the members of the immediate family who urge the boy
to undertake special exercises. Such pressure begins when the
boy is anywhere from eight to twelve years old, depending on his
size and the attitudes of the members of his family.

Now the next thing [after learning to hunt] was getting up before daylight.
My father said, "Be up; be up before daylight and run up the mountain. Run to
the top of that mountain and back before daylight. You must do it, and I'm
going to make you do it. It will be better for you to do it in your own way, but if
you don't, I'll force you to do it."

I asked, "What if the clown should see me? Is he everywhere?"
"My son, that time the clown frightened you it was only I dressed up. You
were a little boy at that time. You would not obey. There is nothing to be afraid
of. That is the way little children are made to mind. Now you are big enough to
handle a bow and arrows. Now I am going to train you so that when you get to
be a few years older you will be almost as good as any man. Your mind will be
well developed. Your legs will be developed so nobody can outrun you. You
will be able to keep up with others when you are running long distances. Getting
up early in the morning, running to the top of that hill and back will give you a
strong mind, a strong heart, and a strong body."

Physical fitness is considered by some parents even more vital
for survival than the assistance of relatives.

If my son is strong, when he is about eight or ten years old I must give him his
lesson. It's like breaking in a mule He must get up before sunrise.

The father talks to his son. "My son, you know no one will help you in this
world. You must do something. You run to that mountain and come back.
That will make you strong. My son, you know no one is your friend, not even
your sister, your father, or your mother. Your legs are your friends; your brain is
your friend; your eyesight is your friend; your hair is your friend; your hands are
your friends; you must do something with them. When you grow up you live
with these things and think about it.

"Some day you will be with people who are starving. You will have to get
something for them. If you go somewhere, you must beat the enemy who are
attacking you before they get over the hill [i.e., escape]. Before they beat you,
you must get in front of them [i.e., best them] and bring them back dead. Then
all the people will be proud of you. Then you are the only man. Then all the
people will talk about you. That is why I talk to you in this way. If you do all
these things and you stay among the people, they will all like you — your brother,
your sister, your uncle. All the camps will talk about you. They will call my
name and say my son is fine and does good work. Then we will be proud of you.
If you are lazy, the people will hate you."

68 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Soon the boy is requested to care for the horses. He is told
that he should carry a pack on his back while he is running. To
prove his endurance, he may be ordered to stay awake continu-
ously for a day and a night or even longer. An inevitable incident
of this training period is the icy morning plunge.

There was a creek deep enough for a boy to jump in. In the fall of the year the
water was frozen a little. The creek was about a mile away. My father said,
"Son, get up, and before you build a fire, take everything off except your breech-
cloth, run to that creek, and jump in the water. If the ice is thin enough, you
jump in so it will not cut you. Go ahead! Jump in!"

Many boys used to put water on their heads and make believe they had
jumped in. And some of the boys used to throw water over themselves before
they went in, but their parents would find it out. If a boy wouldn't do it, his
father would get a whip, call the boy to him, and say, "You go over and jump
in!" So the boy would go to escape a whipping.

Afterward we would come back soaking wet, but we were not allowed to come
up to the fire. We just had to take a covering and wrap it around ourselves.

Nor does this exhaust the ingenuity of those in charge of the
boy:

There is a small tree. My father takes me out there. He says, "Fight that
tree!" I go over there and hit the tree with both hands. Perhaps it hurts and I
will have sore hands the next day. Then there is a tree with a limb about as big
as my arm sticking out just about high enough for me to jump and catch it. My
father says, "Break that limb." And he is standing there watching me fight it.
Some limbs are pretty hard to break, but he is going to stand there until I break
it.

A variation of this type of strenuous exercise is to have the boy
uproot small trees or pull long poles from the ground.

One of the devices of winter training is to send the boy out
early in the morning to roll a ball of snow. He is told to push it
until he is called.

As the youth progresses in his training, guard and scout duties
fall to his lot :

If older men are going away, they leave a young man to watch camp and
guard the women and children. They say to him, "Camp up high. Get up early.
Go up on a hill and watch. Go out and hide in the brush and look for tracks."
That's what they told me.

They told me, "Don't eat too much in the day. Eat just enough so that you
keep your strength. If you eat too much, you won't be able to run. But in the

CHILDHOOD 69

night eat well, for if the enemy does come you can hide yourself because of the
dark and get away."

Facial hair is greatly disdained, and its growth is usually at-
tributed to disobedience of some kind. There is a test of self-
discipline related to this:

My father used to tell me, "When you are old enough to go in the creek and
you are in training, every now and then walk straight into the water until it
reaches the place under your nose where a moustache would begin. But if you
drink the water or get it in your nose or mouth you will have a moustache." I
tried this several times just for fun. The older people warned us not to let the
water in; they didn't want us to have moustaches. They said that if we smoked
while we were little we would get a moustache too.

The last sentence of this quotation calls attention to another
matter concerning which the boy receives instruction at about
this time. Smoking is the prerogative of the warriors and of the
older women :

They tell a boy that he will have to catch a coyote first before he can smoke,
but they mean it just as a joke. Some try it, of course; that's what they tell the
boys to do it for, to see them try something that no boy can do. It's just like
sending a boy for the thing they call "that with which one smokes."

Among older men the admonition is used in jest: ''Not long ago
when I lit a cigarette an old man said to me, 'When did you
catch your coyote?' I told him, 'I've never done it, and I don't
believe you ever did either.' He only laughed." To smoke dur-
ing the boyhood or the training period is said to make a boy
"lazy and no good at work."

Gradually the boys become inured to the demands made upon
them and even devise tests of character for themselves. To dem-
onstrate their bravery, they place dry sage or the pith of the
sunflower stalk on their skins, ignite it, and let it burn to ash.
Even though they are burned severely enough to show a scar
years later, they must not flinch.

The training described thus far is entirely in the hands of the
immediate family, but, when the youth reaches the age of pu-
berty, this hardening process takes a more formalized turn. The
father lets his son know that momentous days are ahead: "There
are harder things to be learned later. When you are a little older,

70 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

I will continue to make you get up early in the morning just as
you do now, but you will have to do more than that. You will
become a raid and war novice."

The term that has been translated here as "novice" denotes
the status of a youth who is advanced enough in his training to
enter the final phases of preparation for actual raiding. Some
informants use the word only to refer to the participant in the
four raid or war expeditions which elevate a youth to the full
status of a warrior.

The initial training of the novice (using the word in the less
restricted sense) does not differ greatly from what has gone be-
fore:

When I was a boy they began training me as a novice. To be a novice means

that you cannot disobey but must train yourself as your elders say Many a

young boy at fourteen was as well trained and dangerous as a soldier.

My father did his best to train me just as he had been trained when he was a
young boy. He gave me all the ceremonial training he had once been through
himself too. When I was ten or twelve years old he began to teach me and was
very strict with me.

He would say to me, "You must have your arrows and your bow where you
can grab them. Keep your knife beside you. Have your moccasins ready. Be on
the alert in peace or in war. Don't spend all your time sleeping. Get up when
the morning star comes out. Watch for that star. Don't let it get up before you
do." That is the kind of teaching a boy gets when he is a novice.

The reference to "ceremonial training" suggests that more
than purely practical measures are involved. The parents pray
for their son's success and future safety, and he may be taken to a
shaman whose ceremony is known to be of special benefit to
novices. "The shaman prays that the boy may be free from
harm. A yellow light shines on the boy's head. It follows the
boy and makes a circle back to the shaman. That means that the
boy will come back safely. The shaman smokes and sings."

"At about fourteen years of age the boy starts hunting with
the men." Usually an older man who "knows" a great deal about
deer goes along and marks the tips of the young hunter's mocca-
sins with blood from the kill.

At the conclusion of the training period, some boys, to insure

CHILDHOOD 71

their competence in horsemanship, are brought to shamans who
perform ceremonies for them originating in supernatural experi-
ences with Bat; for the bat, because of its habit of clinging to ob-
jects, is associated with riding ability.

Sweat-bathing is utilized as an aid to fleetness: "Sometimes
boys are put in a sweat lodge to make them good runners. They
come out and run for about a mile; then they go in again if they
wish. It makes them longwinded." In another account it is said
that the young men emerge from the sweat lodge and run "while
they are still warm." "If a man is training for running, he should
keep away from women and should not drink or smoke." How-
ever, there is no taboo on the presence of women where youths
are practicing running.

As the boy's training advances, the circle of those who are in-
terested in his progress steadily enlarges.

I was a small boy, about nine years old, when I saw this. I remember it well.
Many boys in my time saw what I'm going to tell you about. It was just before
Geronimo's last war, about 1884 or 1885.

Old Man C. had an orphan boy. He was rearing and training that boy. He
had taught him how to ride well. The boy was about fifteen or sixteen years old
and was well trained as a warrior. He knew how to shoot an arrow, how to use a
sling, how to shoot with guns. He was a good hunter; he could shoot deer. Fie
was as good as the average man, though he was just a young boy.

One man had made tiswin [a weak beer made of maize]. C. went to a crowd of
men who were drinking. He said, "I've got a boy. I am his uncle. The boy can
ride any horse bareback without a rope on it."

"Well," one man said, "we all like to see things like that. We will bet you two
big jars of tiswin. You get that boy; let him ride down that steep hill bareback."

In those days one jar of tiswin was worth a horse, and a horse was very hard
to get. That much tiswin was worth a belt and cartridges, or a gun and belt.
Guns were hard to get in those days too. So C. told the man, "Give your horse to
him. Any side of the hill you want to have him ride is all right."

Nobody knew then that this boy was so well trained. C. had been out training
him somewhere away from the rest of the people. The man took the bronco on
the side of the hill, and the boy was called over there. The horse had a rope on
but no saddle.

Just as soon as C. spoke, the boy would do what he said, whether it was dan-
gerous or not. That boy rode the horse down the hill just like nothing! The horse
pitched all around with him but could not shake him off. So C. got the tiswin,
and he was drinking and got feeling good.

In those days the warriors never went without their guns. They always car-

72 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

ried their guns and belt no matter how close they were to camp. Awake or asleep
they were never without their guns. After this ride C. wanted to show those
people just how he had trained his boy. They were on the sandy side of the hill.
Nobody was on that hill.

C. told the boy, "Take your shirt off so that you'll have no excuse of some-
thing to trip over." All the men watched from the side. C. told the boy to stand
on a gentle slope. He stood about fifty feet away from the boy.

C. took his gun and put cartridges in it. He is a sharpshooter; he shoots from
the hip. He said, "All right, you start! You go down there."

The boy began to dodge and run. C. began to shoot. You could see the dust
flying all around that boy, but he didn't get hit!

The boy is constantly reminded that this training must serve
him for the raid and warfare situations which he will face.

The parents and grandparents all advise the boy. They tell him to run up
hills so that in emergencies he can get along by himself, for in wartime, they tell
him, nobody will go back for him, and he must keep up.

They advise the boys that in case of war they should have a strong feeling
that they will overcome the enemy; they tell the boy that the enemy is as
frightened as he is; and that, if he puts on a brave front and charges, the enemy
may run. And they tell the boys that, after coming home from a successful
battle, their relatives and friends will be proud of them. Cowards are talked
about, told nasty things before their faces, and are in disgrace. A girl would not
marry a lazy or cowardly man because the women say he wouldn't be a good
provider. The boys know all this.

As time goes on group tactics assume increasing importance
in the physical education of the novice. Where there are a num-
ber of boys of the proper age in the local group, they are brought
together frequently for the training tasks.

Suppose I have a boy in the group. I give him equipment and tell him to go
out there. The boys line up, ready to run. Maybe two men go along and see that
the boys don't stop running. Then along comes a man with water in a little con-
tainer and says, "Take a mouthful, but don't swallow it; hold it in your mouth.
You are going to run four miles with this water in your mouth."

They all start out, not running full speed, but trotting. When they come back
they are inspected. Each man inspects his boy to see if he still has the water in
his mouth. He says, "All right, spit that water out." If the boy swallows the
water on the way, the trainers see that he doesn't do it a second time.

Now one old man from the group of camps [extended family] might say, "I
have a fine boy. He is hard to beat." Then perhaps my father would say, "I
have a good boy. Bring your boy in." In they come. Everybody is around. The
other boys who are novices are there too, waiting. They match these two, and

CHILDHOOD 73

the fighting begins. Maybe they are both crying. They fight until they bleed,
until one of the boys says, "Enough!" Then he is whipped.

Then another day is set. A different boy is matched with the one who won the
first fight. When it comes to one of these fellows, they tell him, "Well, it is your
turn to fight him now." I have seen some poor boys who had to fight the winner,
cry before they got out. Before they started they knew they were going to be
beaten, but they had to go through with it whether they were good fighters or
not.

Then they take eight boys, all of about the same size and with about the same
amount of training and give them slings. They take them to a flat place where
there are many stones and where all of them can see each other. The trainer says,
"All right, four of you boys go on the other side, four stay on this side. This is
going to make you quick; this is to develop you in speed."

They have to pick up the stones and sling them at each other, one side against
the other. They have to learn to duck and dodge and keep from being hit. They
are taught to throw at each other and to hit each other. If a stone hits you in the
head, you are gone; if it hits you in the arm, it may break a bone. You have to
jump aside and dodge in order not to get hurt. C. has a scar over his eye from a
sling fight of this kind.

After so much sling- fighting they are beginning to be a little like warriors.
Next they make small bows and arrows. The boys divide into equal sides again
and take their places about fifty feet apart. They use small arrows; but, if these
arrows hit you, they stick into you. They are of wood, sharp pointed. The
trainer says, "All right, you boys go out there and fight." And I tell you they
have fun too! They hardly ever hit each other. But I remember one boy in the
crowd at Carlisle who had been shot in the eye, and it put his eye out.

Then they take them out again. They have the boys race without any water
in their mouths and without carrying anything, in order to see which are the best
two runners. Maybe they run to a little tree, around it and back again, about 800
paces. The next day they run about a mile around another tree. A man on
horseback follows on each side. They try that twice to see who can run. Then
they select two boys. They cut two switches, each about three feet long, and
give them to these good runners. These two run ahead as usual and they whip
the last boy in.

A mimic contest in which stones are parried with round
shields is described and also wrestling matches in which "the
idea is to throw an opponent down before you get hit or kicked."

The boys are anything but docile, even in regard to their train-
ers: "Sometimes when they have an older person to run along
during racing to lash those who lag behind, one or two boys jump
on him and struggle with him. This gives the others a chance to
get far enough ahead so they won't be bothered."

74 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Practice in handling and riding horses under all conditions is
a regular part of the training. The boy is taught to ride bare-
back, to control the horse with only a rope around its nose, and
to ride down a steep incline, picking up objects from the ground
as he goes. He-is also judged as he rides full speed toward a bar-
rier and tries to halt his horse just before reaching it, or jumps the
horse over hurdles.

One of the last activities of this phase of the training is a cross-
country run. The route that is to be covered is laid out. There
are no long halts, and the boys try to refrain from eating for the
two days of this journey. Not until the afternoon of the second
day may they kill animals for food. The boys do not sleep until
the race is over. A variation is to make a group of boys walk all
night to see if they can withstand fatigue.

The boys who achieve a position of superiority during this
training period rise to pre-eminence in their age group. The tasks
which lie ahead are close enough in spirit to those in which they
have already excelled so that their futures are reasonably as-
sured. The foundations of status recognitions are laid in the
training period, therefore.

Paternal affection is reinterpreted when the training period
begins. No longer is it indulgence. "Because a Chiricahua par-
ent loves his child," he insists upon duties which are often pain-
ful, for in his opinion this is the only way "his son will eventually
make a living." There is no rancor involved; certainly no con-
scious cruelty or sadism.

This attitude penetrates deeply to the core of all response and
behavior. Demonstrativeness is considered unbecoming; what
cannot be translated into action need not be protested. Since
stoicism and strength are underlined, displays of personal con-
sideration and "softness" must be repressed. Only at times of
crisis and of great grief, in appeals to the supernatural, or during
mourning do the people permit the emotions full expression.

The girl's destiny as a dutiful wife is made very clear to her
while she is still a child. The father may say, "We want to rear
you well so people won't talk about us; we want to get some-
thing out of your marriage, so we want to take care of you."

CHILDHOOD 75

Women school the girls in obedience "so that their husbands
won't hear saucy words from them."

The girl's training is less formalized than that of the boy. It
amounts to a greater and greater association with the duties of
her mother, older sisters, and other female relatives, until she at-
tains adult standards in the quality of work she can perform.

At this time, when the little girl is first learning to do women's
work, her hair is done up in the style worn by young women :

In the old days the young woman had her hair done up. She took it in one
bunch and wrapped it up in back. Then she put a hair ornament on, and it
covered the knot of hair and was tied in the middle. The hair ornament was
made out of buckskin or cowhide. It had to be stiff. In my day they covered the
hide with cloth. The color was usually red

The hair ornament was put on as soon as the girl was ten or twelve years old.
It had nothing to do with the girl's feast [puberty rite]. There was no ceremony
connected with it that I know of. The mother would make it. The only thing I
know about it is that they said anyone who had the hair done up that way would
have very long hair, for it would grow long while it was done up that way. They
told this to the little girls, and it was generally true.

One of the earliest tasks given the little girl is the care of still
younger members of the family. She is also instructed in the use
of the tumpline and is expected to help bring in wood and water.

These simple household tasks are supposed to be shared by
children of both sexes, but the boy is hardly old enough to be of
appreciable assistance when he senses the sexual division of la-
bor: "After my father was gone I worked a little around the
house, getting wood, carrying water, and helping my mother. I
was ashamed to do that though. It was woman's work. The
other boys used to pass by and see me and make fun of me." It
is not long before the boy has to be released entirely from such
duties to follow his companions in their training and sports. But
the girl is encouraged to continue and intensify her interest in
household affairs.

However, like the boy, she must train herself to be strong and
vigorous. She is told to rise early, to run often, and to shun no
hard work. Tales are frequently told of girls so fleet that they
rival boys in races. Such swiftness and strength are necessary,
for girls must be able to get quickly to safety in case of attack on

76 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

the camp. Girls who are good runners even aid boys and adults
in one form of hunting, the rabbit surround. All close in on a
circular area, beating the brush to drive the rabbits toward the
center and club or shoot them.

But the young girl's principal concern is to assist the women
in those tasks not beyond her strength and to receive continual
instruction from them. They indicate to her the plants useful for
food, artifacts, and medicine and teach her to gather materials
and to dry, store, and prepare them. "A girl is taught to sew
moccasins, weave baskets, make clothing, and cook. Her mother
and grandmother begin to teach her as soon as she is old enough
to understand, and by the time she is fifteen she is well edu-
cated."

MATURATION

THE MOLDING OF SEX ATTITUDES

WHILE the child is very young and is still unable to
comprehend the social forms which differentiate one
class of relationship from another, he is little inhibit-
ed. But with his introduction to the ideas clustering around the
sibling and cousin relationships comes the first pressure toward
reserve between the sexes. Soon this trend is fortified by the in-
creasing separation of boys and girls for play and amusement.
Since the youngster is with members of his own sex so much of
the time, the feeling of shyness when he is in the company of the
other sex becomes pronounced.

The parents try to instil the proper attitudes regarding per-
sonal matters: "When the children are about six years old, they
begin to notice things, so the parents are very careful to urinate
and to have sexual intercourse in private and to speak carefully.
The children thus grow up the way they are supposed to." What
cannot be concealed from the child, he is taught to ignore. Thus,
a young man, in telling of serious temptations which he had suc-
cessfully withstood, could explain: "My early training helped
me. For I was brought up in Indian camps where it is hard to be
private and where we were trained to pay no attention to such
things."

There is a definite etiquette of modest deportment. The girl is
taught to sit with her legs close together, flexed back and to one
side, so that her genitals will never be exposed. Children of both
sexes are told to leave the dwelling quietly without reference to
their errand when they go to the brush. If some explanation is
necessary, a simple, "I am going out," is the customary phrase.
This modesty becomes habitual and extends to all situations.

Older boys went swimming in the creek too. The girls would not go swim-
ming then. The bigger boys didn't go over where the girls were swimming be-
cause the girls were naked. When I was about fourteen years old or so, I kept
apart from the older girls. I became ashamed then.

77

78 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Premarital chastity is expected in the girl. The maidenhead is
considered the proof of virginity. A marriage may be abrogated
if a bride is found to have been unchaste, and a girl who is desert-
ed for this reason brings disgrace to herself and her family.

But, because^ of the heightened round of physical activity at

about the time of adolescence and the encouragement of early

marriage, premarital sexual activity does not become a serious

problem. Of great importance, also, is the existence of separate

spheres of activity for men and women. This dichotomy tends

to draw the child's interest away from situations which involve

the other sex and causes him to seek recognition, rather, in those

outlets unequivocally masculine or unequivocally feminine.

An Apache boy is trained not to pay too much attention to the women. It is
not considered manly. The Apache girl is expected to be reserved, and a show of
affection in public between the sexes is laughed at. This training becomes a part
of the Apache's thought. He sees it all around him. He notices who is laughed at
and who is thought well of, and why. This bashfulness, the unwillingness openly
to show a lot of feeling for one of the other sex, is carried right through. It comes
out in courtship. It comes out even in marriage.

Of an aberrant girl who violates the conventions in this re-
gard, the following criticism was offered:

Unlike most Chiricahua girls, she is not bashful. If she came in the room here,
she would start talking to you. Lots of the old Indians hold this against her. It is
considered too forward for a boy to walk up to a girl and start talking a lot. But
when I see this girl I go up to her and start talking. I wouldn't dare do that with
any other woman. She will hail someone at a dance before a lot of other people.
Many of the older people do not like her for this.

Since casual contact between the sexes is discouraged, any
overt signs of friendliness between men and women suggest the
desire for intimacy. Once when an informant had gone to some
trouble to reach a man's camp, he declined to wait there for his
friend who was expected back in a short time, saying, "Well, it
wouldn't look well if C. came and found me here with these wom-
en. C. and I are great friends, and I wouldn't want him to think
anything bad of me."

"The feeling is that a man should go his way with his friends
and a woman her way with her friends." Anything else is effemi-
nacy on the man's part, forwardness on the woman's. These are

MATURATION 79

barriers to intimacy which it is very difficult for the youth to
surmount before he is ready to enter into a marriage relationship
arranged and approved by his elders. Ordinarily, before matu-
rity and the time for marriage, the boy is so busy proving himself
a worthy competitor among men, and the girl is so engrossed in
establishing herself as a competent worker among the women,
that there is limited need to gratify the primary sex drive. There
is no use for prudery or continence as such, but there is a definite
concept of normalcy in the relation between the sexes which sub-
ordinates the sexual drive to other concerns.

Sexual precocity is rare and sternly discouraged. The one ac-
count of such misbehavior which was obtained was that of a
seven-year-old boy charged with trying to throw down little
girls and molest them. The mothers refused to allow their chil-
dren to associate with him. An informant), Vhen he was ques-
tioned about sexual play among children, claimed that he had
never heard of children engaging in sex games but added that, if
two children had been- caught at "such a thing," the parents
"would certainly have whipped both of them."

That masturbation occurs infrequently among the children
has been asserted by a number of informants:

There is no masturbation among the Chiricahua boys. It is against the
Apache nature to handle the private organs. There was one boy, a Comanche,
who did it and advised J. and me to do it. We thought it a shameful thing to do.
I can hardly believe that it is so common among the Whites! It is not done by
the Chiricahua. We children were never warned against it. It never was men-
tioned, thought of, or considered.

Another old man disclaimed knowledge of it, insisting that his
people "never thought along that line." "Way back the Chiri-
cahua didn't know what masturbation was," another man de-
clared. However, one informant who had "never heard of mas-
turbation or anything like that among the men" said he had
heard of girls masturbating with sticks. A traditional story is
told of a woman who abused herself with a cactus plant from
which the outer covering had been peeled.

Berdaches rarely appear and are far from pampered or en-
couraged when they do. They are not mistreated, but they are

80 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

privately ridiculed. Perversion seldom occurs and is not coun-
tenanced; it may even be equated with witchcraft.

The elders do not rely entirely on implicit attitudes and the
demands of the training process to guard their children from un-
desirable sex scrapes but provide continual supervision as well.
When an unmarried girl goes to social dances, she is accompanied
by an older relative. Or she herself may be put in charge of a
younger child so that she will not have time for an assignation.
Her mother is strict and watchful. She tells the girl not to per-
mit any intimacies from men or boys before her marriage and
warns her about bearing unwanted babies. "A girl who goes
wrong is usually one who has no close relatives, no mother, fath-
er, grandparents."

The mother, the grandmother, or some other female relative
gives the girl counsel as the time for her first menses approaches.
She is told that menstrual blood is dangerous to men and is in-
structed how to keep clean. She is encouraged to endure bravely
the possible accompanying pain, for "as long as she acts like a
child she is going to have a hard time at menstruation."

It is at this time that the girl may have a ceremony performed
over her which results in sterility:

No woman should be sterile. There is no excuse for any woman not to have
children. That's the way my people talk and feel about it. The trouble is that
those who are sterile have been ruined right when they came of age, about the
time when they had their first flow. A girl's own mother might have a woman fix
it so the girl won't have children. The father won't know anything about it.
Sometimes the mother, who has had children and knows the pain and hard time
of it, doesn't want her daughter to have children. There are women right now
who know this kind of thing. S. and B. have had no children, and this must be
why. Those who made us made every woman to have children without exception
if not interfered with.

Often a similar charge is directed against a jealous shaman
who has been called for some other service but who has taken
advantage of the opportunity to injure the girl:

We didn't have children for the first five years. We didn't try to prevent it.
Then my wife found out that when she was young and sickly an old woman gave
her some medicine. She didn't know it at the time, but it turned out to be
medicine to prevent children. Some Indian women do this just for meanness.

MATURATION 81

Her grandmother told her this. It was the same with her sister. Her sister had a
child, but it took a long time.

The boy is exempt from the strict supervision to which the
girl is subject. They "warn the boy about having a bad reputa-
tion. Boys are instructed all right, but you can't keep a boy
back."

Yet there are a number of dangers against which the boy has
to be warned. He must be advised that contact with menstrual
discharges will make his joints swell and ache. He must also be
told that "sometimes boys have sexual relations with old women;
that is why they die." Because unmarried girls are so sedulously
restricted, there is always the possibility that a youth may thus
jeopardize his health:

Sometimes a boy would go around with an old, experienced woman. Bad
blood gets into him from these bad women. He gets arm aches and leg aches.
Sometimes he gets aching all over like this before he is thirty years old; some-
times he is dead from it before he reaches this age.

This is because he is giving his richest blood [semen] to these older women and
getting nothing in return but their diseased blood [vaginal discharges] which they
got from having intercourse over a long period of time with other men, some of
them sick and old. The people laugh at a young fellow who does this. He gives
his young, good blood and prolongs and saves that woman's life.

I know a woman like that. She is an older woman who has been having inter-
course with all kinds of men. J. was a young man. He became intimate with her
and was very sick almost at once. She is still living and still doing it. The young
men just shorten their lives by going with women like this. The bad blood that
they get from such women comes out in lumps and sore joints.

It is usually the father who counsels the boy in these matters;
often he adds frightening details:

I was taught by my father, "Don't do anything to any woman. They have
teeth in there. They bite off your penis. And some have diseases." I've heard
many parents say the same thing to boys.

Once my father gave me something sweet. He said, "You like this. You like
to eat it; it tastes good. You like to live and be well. Then keep away from girls
and women. Don't have anything to do with them. They have teeth and will
bite off your penis."

Finally I asked some older boys about this. They told me, "No, the old
people just tell that to you to scare you. There isn't anything to it. When you
get a good thing, don't let it go. If you live long enough, you're going to do it
anyway, so you're just going to be the loser if you let a good chance pass."

82 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

THE GIRL'S PUBERTY RITE

The scene and the actors — The girl should come to her first
menses and her puberty rite a virgin. The proper performance of
the ceremony is supposed to grant long life to the singer as well
as to the girl, and it is dangerous for a practitioner to sing for a
girl who has been "spoiled," for his life will thereby be short-
ened. When a girl who is about to pass through the ceremony
is discovered to be unchaste, she is fortunate if she is not cast
off to fend for herself.

First menstruation is an important transition point in the
girl's life. Before this physiological event and her puberty rite,
she is called a girl; afterward the term "woman" is applied to
her. Before the rite she is not eligible for marriage; afterward she
is considered of marriageable age.

The rite itself has become the focal point for a complex of
events — social, economic, and ritual. The term for this inter-
woven pattern of activities is simply "a ceremony has been
set up." Of a girl who is nearing maturity, it is said, "She is one
through whom the people are going to have a good time" (i.e.,
a ceremony and a social occasion). If a girl who is about to enter
womanhood falls sick and the shaman who is hired to cure her
finds evidence of witchcraft, it is attributed to the jealousy of
some evil person. Additionally, it is considered an affront "out
of meanness" against all the people. Should the identity of the
evildoer be discovered, the ire of the entire community is direct-
ed against him.

Normally, every girl is the center of such a rite. "A girl who
does not go through this ceremony is not discriminated against,
but it is thought that she will not be healthy and will not live
long." Only a girl who is "poor in relatives" passes through this
phase of her life-journey without the proper ceremonial help and
the accompanying popular recognition.

Preparations for the rite begin as much as a year or more be-
fore the first menses:

They can go out and get deer [in preparation for the rite] at any time, and
they can have the feast at any time of the year. They store things away for it.
They notice that their girl is getting to be a young woman, and so they begin to
get things ready for the ceremony. They get their in-laws to help at this time.

MATURATION 83

These preparations tax the resources of any one family. There-
fore, because of the pleasurable public aspects of the rite, indi-
viduals outside the relationship group may lend aid, and its ap-
proach is a signal for exceptional generosity in many matters.

The man who's with you [on the hunt] is ruling you. He tells you what he
wants and takes it. But many times it happens this way: if you were out with a
thoughtful man and you had a daughter who was going to have a feast next
summer, this man you're hunting with might say, "Your daughter is going to
have a feast, and you haven't enough buckskin. You keep all the hides." He
would do that because maybe that might be your last chance to get buckskin.

Buckskin is needed for the ornamented dress which the girl
will wear during the rite. At least five skins are required: two
for the upper garment, two for the skirt, and one for the high
moccasins. This clothing follows the ordinary dress in cut, but
only choice materials are used, and the garments are decorated
with special designs. The girl's mother, her grandmother, or
some other close female relative may work on this clothing; but,
if no one in the family has the requisite skill, an outsider may be
hired. The maker proceeds carefully and according to prescribed
rules. Doeskins or buckskins may be used, but the tail suspend-
ed from the jacket must be that of a black-tailed doe. For the
upper garment the skin side faces outward; for the skirt the flesh
side is out.

The garments are decorated with designs symbolic of the
forces which will be supplicated on behalf of the girl. The morn-
ing star and the crescent moon may be represented, as may a
stepped design symbolizing the dwelling. Circles indicate the
sun, and fringes streaming from their centers, the sunbeams.
Connected arcs stand for the rainbow. Before the dress is fin-
ished all parts have to be colored yellow, the hue of pollen. Yel-
low ocher may be rubbed on, or the buckskin may be dyed in a
liquid prepared from algerita roots.

The dress must be blessed as well as beautifully finished:

While it is being made they have someone sing for it. J. [a man] used to do it.
But this singer is usually an old woman. She sometimes sings over it during two
months. The family has to give her a great deal for these services. Sometimes
the woman who makes it ties amulets on and sings for every string.

84 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

During the ceremony the girl is constantly attended and ad-
vised by an older woman. Because this woman punctuates cer-
tain moments of the rite with a distinctive, high-pitched cry, one
name for her is "she who makes the sound." The first use of this
cry of applause is attributed to White Painted Woman when
her son returned to her after vanquishing the monsters. The
helper is also known as "she who trots them off," a reference to
the ceremonial run on which she sends the girl. For the sake of
convenience she will be called "the attendant" in these pages.

The role which the attendant plays in the girl's puberty rite
amounts to a separate ceremony which fits, like part of a mosaic,
into the ritual whole. These women, when they become too old
to carry on their duties further, teach their lore to others and
thus perpetuate the office.

Unlike the rites of shamans, the ceremony of the attendant is
knowledge which was granted humankind by the supernaturals
in the beginning. No personal experience is at its root, and it is
simply learned by one woman from another. Once it is learned, it
is, however, an individual possession. The woman must be per-
sonally approached and asked to lend her help, and she may even
refuse to participate. She must always be rewarded if she does
perform the function.

The place of the attendant, then, is somewhere between the
purely individualistic shamanism which predominates in the re-
ligious life and true priestcraft. Even here a suggestion of the
purely shamanistic premise persists, for women who "know" a
ceremony from the moon or who have had a supernatural ex-
perience with White Painted Woman are thought to carry on
this ceremony with best results. Although exceptions are report-
ed, the attendant is most often a woman of advanced years, in
keeping with the custom of having elderly practitioners carry
out ceremonies for younger people.

Within reach of any large encampment are women who have
the right to act as the girl's attendant. "The choice of the wom-
an who attends the girl is up to the parents. They can choose
any woman they want." The understanding with the attendant
is reached well in advance:

MATURATION 85

When they are just beginning to talk about the ceremony, the girl goes to the
woman who is going to take care of her. She brings an eagle feather to this
woman. The girl holds the butt end and motions four times with the tip end of
the feather toward the woman. The woman takes it the fourth time. Then the
woman will take care of the girl. She will rub her and push her out to run.

Right from this time the girl calls that woman "mother," even though she is
no relative, and this woman calls the girl "my daughter." And they give each
other presents throughout life.

The most conspicuous ritualist of the ceremony is one who
will be called "the singer" because it is his primary task to su-
perintend the erection of the sacred shelter in which the songs of
the rite are chanted and to sing the songs.

The role of the singer also hovers on the border line between
shamanism and priestcraft. He does not depend on a personal
supernatural encounter for obtaining his songs, nor does he be-
lieve that he can intercede for the benefit of the girl through im-
promptu appeals to supernatural forces with which he is in spe-
cial rapport:

I became a singer just through experience. I was interested. Every chance I
got I sat inside the tepee and sang the songs. I went to the ceremony every time
and learned the songs. I connected myself with this ceremony over forty years
ago and learned it from the ground up. I approached one of the men who con-
ducted the ceremony and asked for help. The one who is learning to be a singer
gets instruction right at the ceremony. When he has enough experience, he con-
ducts it himself. It is very simple. The prayers don't take long to learn. In the
course of two or three ceremonies, even, the songs can be learned. I gave no pay-
ment to the one who instructed me.

The fact that no payment passed between this man and the
one who taught him the songs is convincing proof that the songs
are not a personal shamanistic possession but are conceived of as
the sacred property of the people as a whole. A shaman seldom
parts with his ceremony unless appropriate payment is made
both to him and to the supernatural source involved.

In the selection of the singer the greatest forethought is ex-
ercised:

Well, suppose you were an Indian here and you had a granddaughter who was
growing up. You would come around and say that you wanted your grand-
daughter to be White Painted Woman. You know me very well, and you say to
me, "There are three or four men who know how to sing for this ceremony. Just

86 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

between you and me which one of these men do you think should sing for my
granddaughter? Which one should I make my friend?"

And right there you want to be very careful. If you choose one of these men,
you are brother to him all your life, even if you are not related to him. You call
him friend, but you think just as much of him as you do of your brother. He
thinks of your children as his children. After the ceremony is over, you give each
other some valuable things — saddles, horses, anything that is worth something.
When a man is poor, he gives what he can; it doesn't matter. They do that as
long as they live. They might come out equal in giving things to each other.
Then I think about it and say, "You take B. for your granddaughter."
If you choose him, he will be there to see that everything is done right and he
will be in there to bless your granddaughter in his way. He blesses all the people
when they are putting pollen on the girl. Right in that tepee he asks for good in
life for your granddaughter, for all good things, for long life. That's what the
ceremony is for. It's up to the man that you choose to have the girl do the things
that have always been done in this ceremony. He directs^ things.

In the minds of individuals the singers are graded according
to considerations of friendship and faith. Some singers are
thought by their admirers "to know the songs better and to know
more about the ceremony." Others watch the fates of the girls
for whom particular men have officiated.

I can't say which is the best. The girl my father sang for is still living and is
healthy. Many girls die. The ceremony is held so that the girl will grow up and
be strong, so you must watch for that. For the girl's puberty rite the Eastern
Chiricahua and the Central Chiricahua singers sometimes teach different things.
Whatever the singer in charge tells you to do, you must obey. You must follow
his directions.

The singer is a free agent as far as obligation to participate in
any specific ceremony is concerned:

S.'s mother-in-law was one of the feast-givers. She was talking about the
preparations they were making. Just at this time W. [a singer] came up. She
spoke to him, asking him to sing for her girl. She called him "brother" and
pleaded with him. She said, "I am old and crippled and had to wait to see you. I
had no way to get to see you before."

W. just sat there for a long time and said nothing. Then he said, "It looks as
if you were waiting for me to come around so it would be easy for you to ask me."
He acted as though he wasn't going to do it.

The singer takes his task seriously: "I was singing for C. I
took care of her. All my thoughts and efforts were for that girl
during the ceremony."

MATURATION 87

The girl feels good toward the man who sings for her too. She gives him
presents now and then. She has to give the man a horse and saddle at the end of
the ceremony. Usually he gets a good buckskin and blankets too. The father of
one of the girls who recently went through her ceremony had only one good horse,
but he had to give it to the singer. It's that gray one that B. [the singer] rides
now. He had to do it according to the Indian way.

For the girl, her relatives, and a few serious-minded individ-
uals the ceremonial aspects of the occasion will be of most sig-
nificance. But for most of the guests the feasting, the social
dancing, and the performance of the masked dancers will be the
greatest attractions.

The masked dancers are men dressed and decorated to repre-
sent mountain-dwelling supernaturals. The dancers themselves
possess no power and no ceremony. But the one who "makes"
them, who fashions the masks they wear and paints or directs the
painting of their bodies, is a shaman who controls a most impor-
tant ceremony. The primary purpose of the masked-dancer rite
when it is not associated with the celebration for the adolescent
girl is to ward off epidemic and evil or to cure illness that has been
contracted. When it is so used, its performance is a most serious
matter. However, these same masked dancers have become one
of the standard sources of entertainment of the girl's puberty
rite. Early each evening they appear, and, while they may bless
the camp initially, drive away evil, or even perform some cures
privately on request, their main function is to engage in several
spectacular dances for the noisy approval of the onlookers.

The girl's relatives must secure the co-operation of a masked-
dancer shaman:

A month or more before the ceremony the ones who are giving the feast start
thinking about the man they are going to get to paint the masked dancers. They
say, "Let's ask the old man."

One of them goes to the old man and says, "I'm giving a feast and want you
to work for us. I don't want you to refuse." If the old man promises, it is all
settled. The relatives of the girl will begin talking to him, perhaps it will be her
uncles or aunts.

I've seen it done this way, too. Suppose there are a lot of camps together. A
man whose girl is going to have her ceremony would come out and say, "All you
people, listen! I'm going to give a feast for all you people. I need your help. I
want all you men who know the ceremony of the masked dancers and you men

88 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

who know songs to help. I'm paying for your good time. I'm having plenty to
eat for all of you. I'm a poor man, but still I'm doing this. Let's all help and
have a good time."

Then anyone who knew the ceremony of the masked dancers and felt like it
could paint dancers for him. Afterward he might ask more definitely to be sure
he'd have somebody. He would go to a man and say, "You know the ceremony
of the masked dancers; you help me this time."

If no one comes up to my father to ask him to do it, he won't do it. I have
seen him just let it go. He can see more at the feast grounds, have his meals like
anyone else, and have a better time than he can spending his time at his camp
painting dancers. I think that many times it looks as though the old man doesn't
want to do it. But these feast-makers ask in such a way that he can't refuse.
Sometimes he goes away, and when he comes back there is someone waiting for
him, begging him to help.

When they asked him to do it, my father used to complain. He said, "Those
people ask me to paint masked dancers. But they don't help me out with the
equipment. They don't know how much work it is doing this for four days. It's
tiring. They don't help as they should." Then the people who were giving the
feast had to scurry around and get equipment if my father was short of things.
They sometimes had to ask other people for buckskin and things that were
needed.

There was S. He said to my father, "I want you to help me out; paint those
masked dancers for me." His girl was going to be White Painted Woman [that is,
was going to have the puberty rite performed for her]. Then my father said, "All
right, but you must do your part. You must feed my dancers. It is hard work.
You must feed them in the morning, at noon, and at night." S. said he would
doit.

So my father went out. He tried to get the right men to dance for him. He
came to me. I didn't want to do it. He asked another man, a good dancer, and
he said "No" this time. Then the feast people had to help out. My father went
back to them and said, "I'm willing to help, but I can't get enough good dancers."
He referred the whole thing back to them.

Then they came to me and pleaded with me. "We'll give you a whole side of
the ribs and your wife can get all the food she wants down at the place where we
are cooking for the crowd." And they offered me something else valuable, too.

Some of them come up in a pitiful way and say, "I'm a poor fellow. This feast
is for everybody. You can dance better than anyone else." So you have to sym-
pathize with them sometimes. If they just have to have you and it looks as
though you are not going to do it, they call you "brother" even though you're no
relation to them. They say, "Don't refuse!"

The relatives have been watching those painters of masked dancers. They
notice who makes good designs and turns out the best dancers. The dancing is
just to make the celebration lively though. The masked dancers do not affect the
health of the girl by their dancing.

MATURATION 89

The singer will need eagle feathers, a deer- or elk-hoof rattle,
and a supply of pollen, white clay, red ocher, and specular iron
ore. Required for the ceremony also are a basket tray, usually
made from the black outer covering of the unicorn plant; skins on
which the girl will kneel or lie during certain parts of the cere-
mony; and other ritual objects. If the singer or attendant does
not have these at hand, the girl's parents must make or procure
them.

The origin of the rite. — White Painted Woman is usually cred-
ited with the establishment of the puberty rite. Often associated
with her in this undertaking is her son.

It was not until Child of the Water was rid of all the monsters and evil things,
until there were many people and the different tribes began to be seen, that the
big tepee [girl's puberty rite] was known.

There was a woman who had a daughter who was almost grown. It was time
for her to have her first flow. Then Child of the Water and White Painted
Woman showed them what to do; this good time was given to the people.

They gave a little feast this first day when she menstruated. Then, after this
first day, the relatives of this girl went out and hunted and got everything to-
gether so that they could give a big feast. They did this in the fall when there
was plenty of fruit and many good things of all kinds. They got a man to sing for
her in the tepee. The best masked dancers were got ready. They made them,
not in camp, but way off in the mountains and led them in. The spruce trees
were cut down for the tepee.

Then, when all was ready, they let many know, and they came from far
places. All were invited. The celebration was held for four days. The people had
a good time at the dancing. First came the masked dancers. Child of the Water
and White Painted Woman gave the people the round dance to enjoy, but this
was not to begin until after the performance of the masked dancers was over.
After that came the partner dances.

The last two nights the masked dancers remained on the grounds until all the
dancing was over. Even the masked dancers took part in the social dancing with
their masks pulled to the top of their heads. And the clown was there. The
clown, too, danced with women who wished to dance with him. He carried his
headdress.

Important incidents of the rite and their respective order are
foreshadowed in this narrative. In another account major hon-
ors for the establishment of this ritual practice go to White
Painted Woman:

go AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

White Painted Woman said, "From here on we will have the girl's puberty
rite. When the girls first menstruate, you shall have a feast. There shall be songs
for these girls. During this feast the masked dancers shall dance in front. After
that there shall be round dancing and face-to-face dancing."

Other information, however, emphasizes the importance of
the culture hero for this ceremony. "They do this ceremony ac-
cording to the way Child of the Water directed them:," said one
spokesman; and another asserted that the culture hero "is the
founder of this whole thing."

The pubescent girl herself is identified with White Painted
Woman. During the four days and nights of the rite and for four
days thereafter the girl must be addressed and referred to only
as White Painted Woman. Her dress and decoration are meant
to duplicate the costume which the benefactress of the tribe wore
during her stay on earth. The very name, White Painted Wom-
an, is symbolic of the body paint with which its first bearer was
designed. At one point in the ritual the initiate is painted with
white clay so that the promise of her name may be actualized.
Throughout the songs and the prayers the girl is likened to her
divine namesake; the structure that has been erected is de-
scribed as "the home of White Painted Woman"; and, as an in-
formant has put it, "the young girl is the image of the real one."
This may explain the control over the weather and the curative
functions of the adolescent at this period.

The "little" rite. — The physiological fact of first menstruation
is cause for great rejoicing on the part of the family of the girl and
is so important that reference is made to it by a different term
from the one which means "regular monthly flow." Even though
all is not in readiness for the prolonged ritual and celebration,
the family and close neighbors gather for a feast and token cere-
mony, to be followed at a later date by the complete round of
ritual.

They had a little ceremony for E. It was held at her parents' place. Quite a
few people came down. There was a feast and social dancing. The girl was called
White Painted Woman for the day of the little ceremony. The ceremony for the
girl, who is about fourteen years old, came about noon. She was dressed in an
uncolored buckskin costume without much design on it. I don't think it is fin-
ished yet. Mrs. S. acted as "she who trots them off" [the attendant] for her.
W. sang.

MATURATION 91

About noon Mrs. S. came out, bringing a buckskin. A little later the girl came
out. She came directly to the buckskin, and Mrs. S. put her down and rubbed
her. Then Mrs. S. made four tracks with pollen on the buckskin. W. sang and
led her through the four steps, one song for each step. Then the basket with the
bag of pollen and an eagle feather in it was put to the east. She ran around it
clockwise and returned to her place. She did this four times. Each time the bas-
ket was brought nearer. As she came in the last time, tobacco, fruits, and other
presents were thrown into the air just as soon as she got back on the buckskin.

Then she marked W. with pollen, marked him across the nose. He marked her
the same way. Next she marked the women and children and they marked her.
She marked them across the bridge of the nose also. Then the men came. She
marked them on the side of the face. After that she picked up the buckskin and
shook it to the directions, beginning with the east. Then more presents were
given out.

The procedure just described is a much-reduced version of the
full rite. The order of events is altered to compress the activ-
ities of many days into the hours of one morning, but the inci-
dents enumerated offer a good inventory of the significant ele-
ments.

Final preparation and the beginning of the rite. — The ceremony
is usually held outside the permanent encampments at a level
spot in a clearing selected by the family sponsoring the event.
Some days before the exercises are to start (often four days for
ceremonial emphasis) the girl's family repairs to the grounds to
get everything in readiness.

One of the first acts is to erect the "cook shack," a long, rec-
tangular, leafy shelter to the south of the place where the princi-
pal ceremonial structure will stand.

Meanwhile news of the approaching ritual has spread. Mem-
bers of the local group to which the girl's family belongs and visi-
tors from near-by local groups of the same band gather. If the
ceremony is well advertised and the site is near the dividing-line
between bands, persons from these neighboring bands may at-
tend. This is a ceremony at which all members of the tribe feel
welcome :

All the Indians enjoy the feast — poor and rich, the able-bodied and the lame

and blind. This feast has been handed down for many, many years All the

singing is supposed to work out the future life for the girl in order .... that she
have long life. The songs bring good luck. The ceremony works good luck for
everyone that takes part in it and good luck for the old people during the time of
the ceremony, also good luck for the spectators. They sing and pray for all.

92 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The visitors build temporary camps to the south, west, and
north of the space reserved for the ceremonial tepee. A long lane
to the east must be left unobstructed.

At the beginning of the ceremony, custody of the girl will pass
into the hands of the attendant and the singer. But before this
the girl is reminded by her parents of the seriousness of her role
and is advised to be obedient and cheerful. However, these
ideals are not always attained.

Some of the girls are bashful. They have a time with them! They had a time
with them in the old days too; I've heard stories about it. Some girls had to be
whipped before they'd go through with it. Some of them got scolded before
everyone They talk to her, tell her to be good, but the girl gets mean some-
times.

The exact manner of deciding when the ceremony shall begin
is subject to some variation. According to one account, the
proper starting-point should fall four days after the onset of
menstruation. Most informants agree that the rite may begin
"when everything is ready." Some see a tendency for the group
in charge to set the time for fall, "when food is plentiful," al-
though theoretically the ceremony may occur any time of the
year.

Before sunrise of the first day the girl washes her hair in yucca-
root suds. Then she presents herself before the attendant, either
at a special shelter erected for her care or at the home of the older
woman.

The attendant first puts pollen on the girl's head and face and across the
bridge of her nose before anything starts the first morning. Then the woman
prays over her that she may advance to good womanhood. From then on her
womanhood begins. No man is allowed to go in there at this time.

Then the woman arranges the girl's hair and dresses her, beginning with the
right moccasin, then the left, and continuing up to the head. She ties two eagle
feathers at the back of the girl's head. The girl always faces the sunrise while
this is being done. The woman prays for the girl while she is dressing her, and
some even sing if they have songs and the girl wants them sung. The men do not
say much about this dressing. This is the woman's part, and men are not sup-
posed to say much about it. When the girl is all dressed, it is all right for a man
to see her. After the dressing you have to call the girl "White Painted Woman."

The girl must not eat anything up to now. Then, the first day, when the girl

MATURATION 93

is dressed but before she has eaten anything, the woman gives her yucca fruit
with a cross of pollen on it. She first holds it to the directions, motions three
times toward the girl with it, and puts it in her mouth the fourth time. This is to
give her a good appetite; if she is fed with Indian fruits and pinon nuts and all
the good things at this time, the girl will have a good appetite throughout life.

The attendant now advises the girl:

She tells her how to drink water through the tube [of carrizo, suspended from
the fringe of the dress on the right side], how to scratch herself with the stick
[from a fruit- or nut-bearing tree; the scratcher hangs on the left side of the
dress]. She tells the girl that she must not scratch herself with her nails, because,
if she does, it will leave scars, and that she must not touch water with her lips
but must use the tube for eight days or it will rain.

She tells the girl not to eat too much, because she must stay in the tepee most
of the time, and she shouldn't go out in the brush much.

She tells the girl that she mustn't go around except where she is told she can
go, that she should stay in the tepee most of the time for the four days of the
ceremony and then for four days afterward, until she takes these clothes ofF.

The woman tells the girl not to talk much during this time and not to laugh,
because her face will be old and wrinkled before her time if she does. And she
tells the girl that for the ceremony and for four days after it she should not wash.
She has pollen on, and if she should put her hand in water and wash it off, it
would rain like anything. She tells the girl that if it rains and she goes out in it,
that will make it rain harder. If the girl gets wet, it will be rainy and spoil the
good time of the people. She must not even go to a spring or look up at the sky,
for the rain clouds would gather if she did.1

And these old women talk to the girl about cooking and women's work too.
They tell her to think what it means and to believe what the singer tells her, for,
if she does not believe, it will not do her any good. And the girl is told to mind
and not to make fun of anyone. She is told that she must not get angry or curse
anyone tilj the ceremony is all over for her, till the eight days are over. For the
Chiricahua believe that the disposition a girl shows at the time of the ceremony
will be hers all through life. If she gets angry, she is going to be mean the rest of
her life. They say, too, that if a girl doesn't mind at this time, bad weather
comes. If she is pleasant and goes through the ceremony well, she will always be
that way.

And it seems to me that it turns out this way. There's my wife. She went
through the ceremony very well, obeyed, and was good. You take C; she was
mean and balky when she was going around that basket. Today she's very
mean. My wife went through first, a year or so ahead of C. Then C. went

1 One informant stated that the singer may not wash his hair during the rite,
presumably to prevent rainfall.

94 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

through and wouldn't do anything. And now she's cross, has a bad mouth and a
high temper. But she's a good-looking woman all right!

And if the girls are not of good disposition and balk, it harms not only them-
selves but causes it to rain and spoils the good time of all the people. That's what
happened at the last ceremony, and that's why part of the dancing was spoiled.
So we try to keep the -girls in good humor and coax them.

After eating and listening to the old woman, the girl is ready and comes out.
From here on all the people see what happens.

In spite of general similarities, the rituals of various attend-
ants differ in detail. The prayers show minor divergences. One
attendant feeds the girl throughout the four days of the rite; an-
other asks the singer to do this. Some attendants sing for the
girl, though most of them only pray. One attendant washes the
girl's hair the first morning instead of having the initiate do it.

The erection of the ceremonial structure. — While the attendant
is dressing the girl, the singer directs the building of the
tepee-shaped ceremonial structure. Male relatives of the adoles-
cent bring to the grounds four freshly cut young spruce trees,
thirty to thirty-five feet long, from which all but the topmost
boughs have been trimmed, and some oak boughs and yucca
leaves.

At sunrise the singer requests the girl's male relatives and
some of the visitors to arrange and erect the main poles. The
trees are laid on the ground in clockwise order with butts equi-
distant from a central point and tips extending outward. The
first to be arranged is the east pole. A second pole is laid with tip
pointing to the south, a third lies to the west, and a fourth to the
north. At the base of each pole a hole is dug. The singer sprin-
kles pollen on the poles from butt to tip. Then near the leafy tip
of each, in clockwise order, he ties a spray of sage and some
snakeweed. To the east pole a bunch of grama grass may also be
tied, and at its top two eagle feathers are so attached that they
will blow freely. This is to guarantee that "nothing is to happen
while the tepee is up, that no poles shall fall." To this same pole
a long rawhide rope is affixed.

After a prayer has been said, knots of men lift the poles, slid-
ing the butt ends into the holes prepared for them. As the poles

PLATE III

Erecting the Ceremonial Structure

PLATE IV

United States National Museum

Girl Dressed for Puberty Rite

MATURATION 95

are held erect, an assistant shakes an animal-hoof rattle,2 and the
singer begins his first chant. These opening songs are known as
"dwelling songs." The first song "is about all the four poles. It
is about the black horse, the stallion, the four horses, because in
this ceremony a horse is given on the last day." Much of the
vocalization is meaningless refrain, for the substance of ritual
songs and prayers is largely implicit. But the prayer portion can
be translated:

Killer of Enemies3 and White Painted Woman have made them so,
They have made the poles of the dwelling so,
For long life stands the blue stallion.

Here Killer of Enemies and White Painted Woman have made them so,
They have made the poles of the dwelling so,
For long life stands the yellow stallion.

Here Killer of Enemies and White Painted Woman have made them so,
They have made the poles of the dwelling so,
For long life stands the black stallion.

Here Killer of Enemies and White Painted Woman have made them so,
They have made the poles of the dwelling so,
For long life stands the white stallion.

From the structure to the south, where she is caring for her
charge, the attendant cries out in reverent applause when the
names of the supernaturals are mentioned. Throughout the rite,
whenever reference is made in the songs to Killer of Enemies,

2 From one informant, a Southern Chiricahua man, comes an assertion that a
gourd rattle may be used in the girl's puberty rite in substitution for an animal-
hoof rattle. He said: "A gourd rattle as well as the deer-hoof rattle can be used
when the ceremonial tepee is being put up. This is the only time it is used; just
the tepee singer has it. There are four small holes on each side of it. That is what
makes the sound perfect. It has no design." All other informants state that only
the animal-hoof rattle, made of four or more hoofs, usually tied to a length of
wood, is used.

3 For most of the Apache people of the Southwest, Killer of Enemies is the
culture hero, and Child of the Water is a subordinate brother or companion. The
Chiricahua have reversed the positions of these two; indeed, some Chiricahua
have eliminated Killer of Enemies altogether and claim that the name is a
synonym for Child of the Water. The older heritage persists, however, in the
songs of the girl's puberty rite, which mention only Killer of Enemies. The
Chiricahua simply accept these references as concerned with Child of the Water.

96 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

White Painted Woman, Sun, or turquoise, she will utter this
call.*

During a second "dwelling song" the poles are lowered until
their tips meet:

The home of the long-life dwelling ceremony

Is the home of White Painted Woman,

Of long life the home of White Painted Woman is made,

For Killer of Enemies has made it so,

Killer of Enemies has made it so.

Quickly, when the tops of the four poles meet, the rope hang-
ing from the east pole is wound around the others, and the frame-
work is secure. Now the women come from the community
kitchen, bearing receptacles filled with mesquite beans, boiled
meat, mescal, yucca fruit, and other food. They set these in an
east-west line before the entrance, and, after pollen crosses have
been sprinkled over the top of each by the singer, everyone
gathers to eat. The conspicuous display of food is symbolic of
plenty and of the favor of the supernaturals: "Child of the
Water told the Apache to carry food into the ceremonial dwell-
ing, to grab at it, play with it, and eat it. That's why we do it;
it is his command."

After the meal the ceremonial structure is quickly finished.
The central fire pit is dug to the accompaniment of more songs.
The oak boughs are tied horizontally to the poles, but an opening
is left to the east. Women bring to the entrance spruce needles
for the floor, and these are arranged by the singer and his helpers.
The ceremonial home of White Painted Woman is now ready.5

4 While it is the primary responsibility of the attendant to call thus, other
women may join her: "Women, when White Painted Woman, turquoise, or
sacred things are mentioned, have the right to make that call. This is true of any
ceremony, not just the puberty ceremony. Also they can give that cry when the
masked dancers approach, when they just begin to trot in from the east and the
jingle of their pendants is heard. Any mature woman can do it, but old women
do it mostly. They do it because of the religious feeling they have toward the
Mountain People."

5 The Mescalero Apache, with whom the Chiricahua now share a reservation,
use four main poles of spruce and eight others — twelve in all — for the ceremonial
structure. They also build the tepee with a runway of eight smaller spruces, four
on either side, stretching eastward from the doorway. The Mescalero and Chiri-

MATURATION 97

The conclusion of the events of the first day. — The attendant now
comes forward, followed by the girl. Both are marked with pol-
len across the face and on top of the head. At the southeast of the
structure the woman lays the skin of a four-year-old black-tailed
deer. On this the girl kneels. Before her the attendant places a
coiled basket tray, made of the unicorn plant, filled with bags
of pollen and with ritual objects.

The attendant is the first to come before the girl. She offers
pollen to the directions and then paints the girl with it, marking
her from cheek to cheek across the bridge of the nose and along
the part of the hair. The girl marks her in the same way. A line
of persons forms to the south and files past the girl to paint her
with pollen and to be painted in turn. "We motion to the direc-
tions and then put pollen on her face. She does it to us. If she is
a good girl, we'll have good luck then." Mothers bring forward
their children to be blessed, painting the girl for them but allow-
ing them to receive pollen from her.

Definite curative powers are attributed to the girl:

Painting the girl and being painted by her are thought to cure sickness. Some
years ago there was a girl who was deformed pretty badly. Her buttocks stuck
out in back, and her chest forward. She went through the line with the others.
Then the old woman, the girl's attendant, massaged her. A little while later she
began to straighten up and finally got entirely well.

cahua act together now to hold the puberty rite. Most Chiricahua informants
claim that their tribe used a four-pole tepee without runway. But a number of
spokesmen have mentioned either the twelve-pole structure, the runway, or both,
as aboriginal Chiricahua features.

In a tale told by an Eastern (^hiricahua mention is made of a "big tepee" for
which the "poles were of spruce and there was a runway of trees on either side."

Another Eastern Chiricahua said: "We used the tepee for the girl's puberty
ceremony and had the same number of poles as are used here. I never saw one
with four poles only among my people. There were four main poles."

A Southern Chiricahua claims the twelve-pole tepee for his people, but rejects
the runway: "These Chiricahua never used the tepee except at the time of the
girl's ceremony. Then they would put up four poles. Then they had eight more
to make twelve, just as is done here at Mescalero. They didn't have the runway
of small trees to the east. I never saw a Chiricahua have this before coming
here."

Yet a four-pole ceremonial structure is specifically mentioned by other in-
formants of these same bands. We may suspect, therefore, that there was a great
deal of local variation among the Chiricahua in respect to these details.

98 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When no more come forward, the attendant places the girl face

downward on the buckskin with her head to the east and "molds"

her, working from her head to her feet and from the right side

to the left :

The girl is rubbed so that she will have a good disposition and be good. The
old women who do it have that as special work. The woman attendant is praying
as she does this. She is saying, "May this girl be good in disposition, good in
morals. May she grow up, live long, and be a fine woman." The molding also
makes the girl straight and supple.

The girls are massaged to give them good health and strength and to straight-
en out their lives and make them long

The girl rises, and on the buckskin the attendant outlines four
footprints in pollen. Through these the girl walks toward the
east, right foot first, "so she will walk on a trail of pollen, so that
her way will be fortunate and healthy." The pollen is from trees
that bear fruit and nuts.

Next the basket tray, containing bags of pollen and ocher, a
deer- or elk-hoof rattle, a bundle of grama grass, an eagle feather,
and other ritual objects, is placed about thirty paces to the east.
When all is ready the attendant "pushes her out to run," and the
girl trots clockwise around the basket and back that "she may
live long." As she runs, the attendant again utters the call.

Old men and young boys run after the girls when they go around the basket.
They pray as they run. Sometimes the very old men do it. They pray to White
Painted Woman. These old men ask for strength, for long life. The young ones
ask for long life or anything good. Any way they want to pray is all right. I ran
like that when I was a boy. I asked for long life and good health. The older
people told me what to do and what to pray for. They say you get long winded
when you do this.

At the end of the first run the basket is brought nearer the
ceremonial structure. Three more times the girl runs, and before
each run the basket is brought westward. When the girl reaches
the buckskin after the last run, she picks it up and shakes it to
each direction in clockwise order, beginning with the south, "to
send to the directions all sickness and disease that might harm
her."

During these events, women of the adolescent girl's family

MATURATION 99

have brought baskets of fruit and nuts to the rear of the hide
upon which she has stood. They throw these presents upon the
hide, and a scramble ensues. Thus the cycle which began when
the pollen footprints were drawn has been completed symbolical-
ly; the fruits have followed the pollen and the season of growth.
In the good-natured din and confusion the girl and her attendant
retire. The girl has custody of the singer's rattle until evening.
It is noon before this opening ritual is concluded, and more food
is now distributed.

The afternoon is devoted to social activities — dancing in the
open space to the east of the ceremonial structure, singing, rac-
ing, and visiting. Men gather at the hoop-and-pole ground, while
the women play the stave game. The girl's parents move about
among their guests, and grateful visitors seek them out to com-
ment upon their hospitality and "to say they are thankful that
this daughter has grown up to have the ceremony." "The feast-
givers are shown respect, and all obey them. Nobody ever breaks
this rule."

Ordinarily, the girl's ritual obligations are over until evening,
but she may be requested to treat the very young during the day:

The Chiricahua believe that it is good luck for a child or a baby if a girl who is
White Painted Woman lifts it up. At any time during the ceremony the girl can
take a very young child, pick it up under the arms, and hold it to the directions.
This is done to give the child long life and good luck.

She also helps the infirm:

If your arm is crooked, go to the girl at the time of the ceremony. She can
work it and make it straight. She picks up children by the neck too. It is good
for them. They tell me to let one of the girls work on me. [This man has a
crippled arm.] I go there, but there are lots of people in there, and I back out
every time.

In the late afternoon of the first day the adolescent girl or the
singer, using a fire drill, lights a fire in the ceremonial structure.
This fire is to be kept alive during the course of the ritual or, at
least, during the nights. Sometime in the afternoon a great pile
of firewood is stacked to the north side of the ceremonial struc-
ture. This will be used for the fire around which the masked
dancers will perform.

ioo AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The masked dancers. — As the sun starts to go down, the paint-
ing and the dressing of the masked dancers begin. The men who
have agreed to dance make their way to a brush shelter erected
quite a distance from the ceremonial grounds, for it would be
dangerous to the people, and especially to the women and chil-
dren, to have them "made" in the vicinity of the camps. Since
the dancers are impersonating mountain-dwelling supernaturals,
a place in the foothills surrounding the level dance ground is
most likely to be chosen. There the masked-dancer shaman waits
with dancing costumes and paints. The shaman rarely paints
the dancers but directs his helpers and prays and sings, accom-
panying himself with a buckskin-covered pottery drum. Upon
this he draws figures, such as that of the sun, in pollen "to keep
his voice from becoming hoarse."

The shaman may have some difficulty in assembling a dance
group, for the supernatural impersonator must obey irksome re-
strictions:

You shouldn't wash the paint off. It sweats off while you are dancing and
when you put your shirt on. It is just clay and charcoal. Perhaps the second
night there will be just a faint mark left from the paint of the night before.
When the next paint goes on fresh, you can't tell that there was any paint on
there before. If you do have to get some off, you rub it but do not wash it off, for
if you wash, it will cause a big rain to come.

Mistakes during the dance are most dangerous:
Not many men want to dance; it can cause evil influence. They fear to get
into this costume just as they fear a coyote. If the dancer makes a mistake and
doesn't do things according to the ceremony, he will get sick. It is dangerous for
one dancer to touch another who has been made by a different shaman. The
power of one masked-dancer maker may be stronger than that of the other and
cause some disaster to a dancer. It sometimes causes a spasm [paralysis] in the
mouth, or trouble with the ear or eye, or a swollen face. Then the only way is to
go through a ceremony and have the masked dancers blow the sickness away.

The dancer must be quite as particular about other points. If

he should place the mask over his head without the proper ritual

gestures, he is likely to go mad. He must show proper reverence

as well:

One time I was dancing for D. Three of us were dancing — S., T., and I. It
was S.'s first time. He was speaking in English, cursing while they were painting
him. You know he is just like a mocking bird; he doesn't respect anything.

PLATE V

Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation

A Masked Dancer

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MATURATION 101

The old man said, "Look here, that kind of talk doesn't go here! You men
should be praying in your hearts. Pray for all the good things. Be saying, 'Let
me be a reliable masked dancer. Let me be reliable in life.' That's what you
should be doing while you are in this brush hut."

Just as soon as the old man stopped talking, there S. was again, cursing. Well,
we went out, the three of us. We came toward the fire. The last minute S. was
putting on the mask. He couldn't get it on. He said, "I can't get this damn
thing on! How does this damn thing work?" I told him, talking softly, "Don't
talk that way." You can't talk in a loud voice when you are in the mask. "Have
some manners!"

The old man heard and said, "Hey, what are you doing? Now if anything
happens to you, you'll say you are witched, but I warned you." S. said, "Oh, I
always forget."

We went out to the fire. The first time we approached the fire, S. bumped
into me. I heard him laughing. Every time we went around and started toward
the fire he bumped into me. I said softly, "Keep your distance and be careful." I
was leader. He was right behind me.

All of a sudden I noticed S. was putting his hands to his head. He just took
his sticks and pressed them to his head. Then I saw him break out of line and
run away from the fire. He ran right to his camp, pulling off his mask. His camp
was just a little way from the grounds. They found him there crying and yelling
and rolling around.

Pretty soon they sent a message to D. "That man who danced for you is
pretty sick," they told him. The next time we came out from the fire, D. came to
us. "We'll have to go right over and see that boy," he said. So we went over.
S. was just like out of his head. He was rolling around, trying to stand on his
head. They couldn't hold him down.

D. told me to work on him, because I was the leader. T. came behind me in
the dancing, but I was the only one that touched S. The old man was singing his
songs and praying while I was working on S. First I came toward him from the
east. The fourth time I crossed my sticks over his head. Then I grabbed his head
in both hands and shook it, shook it hard. You can't be gentle with them. Be-
sides I was angry at missing the dancing over there at the grounds all because of
his foolish talk. He yelled, but I pulled him around good. I did this from the
south, west, and north too. Each time I shook him we made the masked-dancer
call, and then I blew his sickness away to the four directions, beginning with the
east.

After I finished, D. said to him, "Now you're all right; nothing is the matter
with you. Get up, no matter how you feel, and follow these men." So S. followed
us, and we went around once and then went toward the east.

"All right," said D., "you fellows go back and dance. He will be better now.
He will be over there at the feast pretty soon."

So we went back. While we were dancing I watched for S. I looked around
every once in a while to see if he was there. Pretty soon I saw him there, laughing
and clapping his hands, having a good time. It was just about an hour after we

102 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

had worked on him. I don't know what made that fellow well. I didn't do it. I
just followed D.'s directions. It wasn't I but it was D.'s power that did it. The
old man knew what was wrong with S. and how to cure him.

As this story indicates, whenever the dancer gets into dif-
ficulty because of his participation, it is to the masked-dancer
maker that he must turn. Said one of these shamans, "If a danc-
er who is working for me gets a pain in his foot, I put a feather on
his foot, and it goes away."

The dancer must observe suitable modesty and remember that
he is but an instrument of the rite and not its owner:

One man got into trouble from this. He danced three or four times. Then he
made his own outfit and carried it on, though he had no right to the ceremony.
Soon his baby got sick, and no one could cure her. When she died she made the
masked-dancer cry and held her hands outward.

When I asked a man who had acted as a masked dancer to
sketch the designs which had been put upon him, he replied that
he was not sure he could do this. Later he refused entirely, say-
ing, "I asked T. if I could draw his masked dancers, and he said,
'You'd better leave those Mountain Spirits alone,' so I can't do

It.

The subordinate role of the masked dancer is emphasized in
another statement:

If I learned that song without getting the whole ceremony, without having
the whole thing turned over to me, if I didn't get it in a spiritual way, it wouldn't
do me good. If I painted a man, I might do it in this same way, but it would just
make both of us sick. I can pound on the hide and sing the refrain with the
chorus, but I shouldn't sing the words of the prayer in the [masked-dancer] song
if it isn't mine. The dancer is just in there working for the one who knows the
ceremony. I can't tell, just because I danced for him, whether R.'s masked-
dancer ceremony is good. He has a good outfit all right.

A man must have natural aptitude to become a successful
dancer:

According to my understanding about being a masked dancer, it comes like
anything else. After you do it once the feeling for it comes to you if you are the
right kind for it. I did exactly as I was told, and right from the first time I was
almost as good as the* best dancer. I ran around that fire all night long. Right
from the beginning I was getting better every night. And I was dancing with
old-timers. People hardly knew the difference between me and those other
dancers.

MATURATION 103

On the other hand, you take N. over there. He's a well-formed man and
should be a good dancer, but he has no natural inclination to be a masked dancer.
You have to be in special physical condition to do this dance, like in prize-
fighting.

Despite the dangers there are many factors which induce men
to become masked dancers and insure their continued enthusi-
asm for the art:

If you have never taken the part of the masked dancer, the first time you put
on the mask you feel awkward. I must have been twenty-five years old the first
time. They were going to have my brother dance. They were starting to mark
him with paint. I was riding a horse and came up to them. Someone said,
"Here's a better one; he's older." My brother put on his clothes. I didn't want
to dance, but they begged me to, so I did. My father was painting four. He is
supposed to make four. Sometimes he only gets two or three men; but he won't
do it with one.

My father said, "My son, I want to tell you some things before you start, for
this is your first time. Putting this mask on and getting everything on tight is
going to feel awkward. When you are led out to the fire by the leader, there is
going to be a big crowd of people, but they don't know who you are. Don't be
bashful. This is your first time, and the way you dance now is going to influence
all the dancing you ever do. If you act bashful when you start to dance, that
habit is going to stay with you. If the other dancers are lively and are trotting
around there like wild steers and you drag and aren't lively, you'll always dance
like that. The leader is the one who is the best dancer. Watch your leader, Y.
Watch how he holds his hand up and do as he does. Don't watch the last man."
And my father said, "You must dance four nights the first time you are in this
work."

Y. talked to me before we went out. He said, "Take short steps. Don't spread
your legs. Don't have your head down. Look at your sticks. Keep the horns of
your headdress in line."

When you get over there and start to dance, you must be singing for yourself,
humming a little. Y. told me to do it, to learn this way. You don't have to do it
later when you know how. I asked my father if this was the way to learn to be a
good dancer, and he said "Yes." No one can hear you in all that noise. I learned
many songs this way.

I danced for my father for several years, for T., for D., and for M. All these
people do it about the same but have different designs. They do the way my
father does. They sit there singing and praying while the dancers are painted.

They pay the very best dancers. They might send for a dancer who was
thirty miles away. Then they would have to pay him. I was sometimes paid.

Sometimes I'd want to dance all right, but I would hesitate a little so that
they'd pay me. I'd say, "Oh, it's too much work, too hard." P. paid me when
his daughter went through the girl's ceremony. I said I didn't want to do it.

io4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

They came for me several times. Finally P. came. He said, "My friend, I want
you to do it. Dance, and the first time the masked dancers come to the fire, I'm
going to show you what I will give you." So we were coming to the fire. I was
the leading dancer. P. came to us. He put up his hand and gave me a big present.

The virtuoso among dancers is sometimes particular and de-
manding concerning the conditions under which he will lend his
services:

When I was a leading dancer, I wanted a long stick so that I wouldn't have to
bend to place it on the ground. That's the teaching I got from my father and
from the leading dancer. When I wanted to make it short, I'd grab it in the
middle. So if they gave me a short stick, I'd throw it to another dancer, and
they'd make a long one for me. Each dancer always carries two sticks.

I always wanted a new mask. During the winter I might notice that another
had used, in a curing ceremony, the mask I usually wore. Then in the spring or
summer they would want me to dance. I would say, "I want a new mask. I'm
not going to have someone else in my mask. They sweat in there, and it's
dangerous and gives diseases."

The experienced dancer takes delight in mastery over the
minute details of his calling:

Then my father would make me a new mask. He would put the buckskin
over my head. "Where are your eyes?" he would ask. I would tell him to make
the holes, not at my eyes, but over my eyebrows. He would mark it and make
the holes there. Y. told me it should be done this way because the buckskin
stretches. Then, when the buckskin is pulled down, it will be just right.

"How do you know the holes should be high?" my father asked. "You told
me to follow Y. and that's what he told me."

"That's good," said the old man. "Some dancers tell me to put the holes just
at their eyes. Then they go digging at the holes with their sticks, trying to make
them bigger, when they are going around the fire."

Within his own sphere the masked dancer is relatively inde-
pendent:

Sometimes there are sixteen masked dancers at the feast grounds. The best
men don't want to dance out there where it's crowded. They can't dance well
then. You can come in and dance and go out about four times and then you can
stop if you want to. You don't have to ask the shaman; you just go over to the
place where you were painted and leave the equipment there. Sometimes the old
man will ask when he sees you the next day, "Why did you stop so soon last
night?" You just make some excuse. When you quit, you come back and watch
the dances.

When you're out there in the woods resting between dances, the people call
for the dancers. You don't have to pay any attention. You come back when you

MATURATION 105

want to. While you are out there, you can take up the mask and smoke ciga-
rettes. It's all right. You are just entertaining the people. You don't have to
keep away from women during the four nights of the dancing either.

There is great rivalry for the leadership of the masked-dancer
groups :

I was dancing for T. once. E. was going to lead. I was going to be second in
line. While we were being painted, E. said, "Watch me. I'm the leader, and the
leader is supposed to be the best dancer." I just laughed.

They finished painting us, and T. said, "All right, go ahead." It was dusk by
this time. We were late, for the fellows had been late in getting there. We could
see the big fire over at the feast grounds. So E. started off. His mask was down
over his face. He must have been blinded by the fire, for before you know it he
went off the bank and into an arroyo! You could hear him go down, and then he
was down there grunting. I had thought he was going wrong. I had the front of
my mask pulled up. I knew how to wear it and could pull it up and still have it
stay on.

I just laughed and laughed when he went down. I said, "Hey, leader, I can't
follow you there." T. went down and got him. He was skinned and the horns of
his headdress were broken. T. said, "You fellows go on and dance," and so we
went on.

The next day I saw him standing there holding one arm. The news got
around, and the people were laughing and calling, "A masked dancer fell in the
arroyo! A masked dancer fell in the arroyo!"

Accomplished dancers, in spite of the strenuous nature of the
task, are reluctant to withdraw even when they grow old. "E.
still dances. They have to pull his skin smooth to put the paint
on. It is the same with H.; they have to stretch his skin. But
they don't want to give it up."

If a dancer wishes to become a ceremonialist of this rite, his
experience as an impersonator "makes it easier for him to learn/'
One prominent masked-dancer shaman, describing how readily
he had mastered the details of his calling, said: "I learned so fast
because I had been a dancer right along."

While the masked dancers just described are being painted,
another type of impersonator, the clown ("Gray One," "Long
Nose," or "White Painted"), is being prepared also:

He wears a mask of scraped rawhide. Sometimes they make it with a big nose
or big ears. He wears only moccasins and a gee string. The rest of his body is
bare and covered with white paint. They say that it is good to be a clown before
you dance as a masked dancer. Then you get used to the dances.

io6 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When the masked dancers are out there just for the good time of the people, it
isn't necessary to have a clown with each set of dancers. Sometimes the shaman
doesn't even paint a clown. He doesn't worry about it. If someone wants to be
one, all right; but he doesn't ask anyone to do it. If someone wants to, he says,
"All right, get your own equipment then." The clown is not counted in the set.
A man may paint four others and a clown. But when they are dancing to cure
sickness, the clown is supposed to be the most important dancer. The old man
told me that the clown has more power than any other masked dancer.

The clown won't talk to the people when he's dancing at the time of the
puberty rite. He only motions. He's just there to make fun. The people give
him directions, and he goes and does what they say and makes a fool of himself
just for the fun of it. He will roll on the ground if they tell him to. He dances all
over. He may be in the lead or he may come last. He has no special position. It
is not dangerous to touch a clown as it is to touch another masked dancer.

The clown is the servant and messenger of the masked dancers. You notice
that he runs over to the group of men who are singing for the dancers and bends
down and says something. He is saying, "The dancers out there [resting in the
woods] want to smoke and they need tobacco," or, "They want you to sing a
'high-step' dance song for them."

If you are a masked dancer, you can tell the clown to deliver a message for
you. He goes among the people; it's all right for him to doit. People are all say-
ing, "There's the clown. What is he after?" He gets near your man. Then he
leans over quickly and delivers your message. And he's gone like a flash.

When I was a dancer, I used the clown. The girl I sent a message to is still
living here. Just as we were going out from the fire I motioned to the clown, and
he followed me. I told him, "See that girl by the wood pile. Tell her that I want
to see her over here when the next dance begins." Pretty soon I saw the clown
going toward that wood pile. He talked to my girl.

The next time they danced, I didn't go in. I went to the place where I was
going to meet the girl. I had my mask on, and people I met couldn't see who I
was. I was waiting there. Pretty soon I saw a girl coming. I jingled my costume
to let her know I was there.6

To continue with the account of the preparation of the masked
dancers. The men who are to dance, strip, don the kilts and moc-
casins, and stand or sit facing the east. The shaman puffs a pre-
liminary cigarette to the directions while he recites an extem-
poraneous prayer such as this:

Under the heavens to the east, inside Big Star Mountain, can be seen the
great Black Mountain Spirit. His body has been designed and the uprights of his

6 It is dangerous to touch, speak to, or point at a masked dancer only when he
is dancing or actually impersonating a supernatural.

MATURATION 107

headdress have been made with the big star. Against these diseases I use the
sound of the Mountain Spirit rattling his headdress as he dances to the fire. By
means of it I walk the earth. It drives all evil away. With it I perform this cere-
mony. With this I walk. That is all.

"They always start to paint the leader first. It doesn't matter
who is finished first though." Helpers apply the paint with sticks
which have been pounded, softened, and sometimes turned back
at the end. Even the finger is used if the work has to proceed
quickly. The helper, who has seen the masked dancers of this
shaman perform many times and may have acted as dancer for the
shaman himself, is usually familiar with the designs. What in-
formation he lacks is supplied by the shaman. Often masked
dancers assist in painting each other.

Anyone can help the shaman paint the dancers. The shaman sits there and
tells them what to do. Sometimes he paints too. When he has several men
around, he will have everybody working on them. He will be singing and praying
while they do it. I've never asked about this part. They start painting in the
late afternoon. It takes some fellows longer than others. It doesn't make any
difference whose masked dancers are first on the grounds below.

I painted masked dancers once. I was already painted myself and ready to go
out. They were a little behind. I just went over and put the marks on one of the
fellows to help out. I went ahead and did it while the shaman was there singing.

During the painting the shaman sings, beating a pottery drum
with a curved drumstick. Should these songs not be sung in the
right way, "the masked dancer would fall down like a man
knocked out by a blow if he should touch another masked dancer
down on the grounds." According to one masked-dancer sha-
man, his songs "call on the Mountain Spirits to give the dancers
endurance," and so his dancers are able to "stay in there a long
time.

These songs which accompany the painting of the dancers are
sung as memory and convenience dictate. The allusions in them
are to the themes associated with the ceremony, to the "holy
home" where the ritual was learned from the resident Moun-
tain Spirits, to the sounds made by the pendants of the head-
dress and kilt as the dancers trot to the fire, to the cardinal
directions from which the Mountain Spirits guard the Chiricahua
against all sickness and danger. The prayer or softly and quickly

108 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

uttered recitation which separates the choruses can be freely
translated as follows for one of these songs:

Inside the holy home

At the place called "Home in the Turning Rock,"

The Mountain Spirits, truly holy,

Rejoice over me to the four directions

And make sounds over me.

The words of another of these songs show a forceful and vivid
imagery:

In the middle of the Holy Mountain,

In the middle of its body, stands a hut,

Brush-built, for the Black Mountain Spirit.

White lightning flashes in these moccasins;

White lightning streaks in angular path;

I am the lightning flashing and streaking!

This headdress lives; the noise of its pendants

Sounds and is heard!

My song shall encircle these dancers!

When the body-painting is finished, the dancers eat the gen-
erous meal provided for them by the feast-makers. It is nearly
dusk now, and soon the great fire will be kindled below and the
people will gather to see the entrance of the masked dancers.

While the shaman chants another set of four songs, the
dancers line up in a row facing the east, headdresses in hand,
praying and asking to be blessed. Of one of these songs the in-
formant said:

I'm going to sing an old song. It's very valuable. It is sung when the masked
dancers are standing there, painted, dancing in place, and ready to go out, shak-
ing their headdresses. This song is called "Earth's Song." It is sung very slowly.

Thus speaks earth's thunder:
Because of it there is good about you,
Because of it your body is well:
Thus speaks earth's thunder.

As these songs are sung, the impersonators gyrate clockwise,
uttering their call at the mention of the Mountain Spirits and
motioning with their headdresses to the directions. The buck-
skin masks have been moistened so that they will be pliable. At
the conclusion of the singing, the dancers, including the clown if

MATURATION 109

one is present, spit into the masks four times, make three ritual
feints toward themselves with the headdresses, and draw the
masks over their heads the fourth time. Now they are ready to
move in single file down the hillside, led by their most experi-
enced dancer.

As they depart, they present a colorful spectacle. They wear
high moccasins (with upturned toe) and buckskin skirts. These
are colored yellow. The skirt is held in place by a broad belt ; and
from the skirt are suspended pendants of various kinds.7 The
arms and upper part of the body, with the exception of the face,
are entirely covered with paint. Black, white, and yellow are
most used; blue appears occasionally. The motifs most frequent-
ly employed are narrow bands of contrasting color, a branching
design to stand for cactus, a saw-toothed element, a stepped line,
a zigzag line, the triangle, the Greek cross, a pattee type cross,
and a four-pointed star. These designs may remain the same all
four nights, the same design may be used the first and third
nights and another the second and fourth nights, or different de-
signs may be painted each evening. Occasionally, the painted
designs on the leader vary slightly from those of the others. The
dancers carry painted wooden sticks in each hand; one or both of
those carried by the leader may have a cross-piece at the handle.
Long, narrow, buckskin streamers with eagle feathers attached
are tied just above the elbows.

The mask is a buckskin hood which fits snugly over the head
and is gathered at the neck by a drawstring. Two tiny holes for
the eyes, and one sometimes cut at the mouth, are the only
openings. These hoods are usually painted black but are also
seen in yellow, in blue, or in two tones. When they are not a
solid color, they may show such design elements as have been
mentioned for the body. On the mask, at the forehead or nose

7 Today, small cone-shaped jingles of tin have taken the place of these on the
dance kilts, the dress made for the pubescent girl, and on other objects (awl cases,
buckskin bags, burden baskets, etc.). To make these tin jingles, the metal is cut
to proper size, placed over a depression in a board, and smartly struck at the
median point. This curls the two sides, and it is then an easy matter to press
them together with the fingers to form the cone, which is attached to the garment
on a length of fringe.

no AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

region, may be suspended a piece of abalone shell or turquoise.
One shaman employs the shell "because abalone has strength,
and the masked dancers should have the same strength as the
abalone."

At its top the hood is attached to the horns8 or uprights by
spreading prongs of a piece of oak which has been split, soaked
in water, and heated until it could be worked. At its upper end
this piece is connected to the yucca or sotol frame which rises
above it. A bunch of turkey feathers or some green juniper is
tied at the point of union. The superstructure of wooden slats
looks like a great, squarish candelabra balanced on the top of
the dancer's head. It is essentially a horizontal bar to which ver-
tical pieces approximately two feet high have been attached at
the two ends and in the middle. From each end of the horizontal
support hang two or four short lengths of wood called "earrings."
These strike against one another, making a sound that has be-
come a symbol for the approach of the dancers. From the tops of
the vertical pieces float downy eagle feathers. The colors of the
uprights are black, yellow, and green (blue);9 red "would be used
only by a witch on a masked-dancer horn."

The shaman, drum in hand, may accompany his dancers to the
edge of the clearing. Then, often, he will join the group of men
who have gathered at the north of the ceremonial structure to
sing for the masked dancers.

But the entrance of the dancers may be delayed still further,
for they are often called upon at this time to cure. Yet the fic-
tion of their purely social function at the puberty rite is main-
tained by having what serious ritual they attempt remain a pri-
vate matter, unguided by the sponsors of the ceremony:

8 That the headdress should be called "horns" is of special interest, in the light
of the fact that Mountain Spirits are associated with the protection and guard-
ianship of game animals, the most important of which have horns.

' Juice of the yucca leaf is mixed with charcoal, yellow ocher or a decoction
from algerita root, and soft turquoise to obtain these colors. The addition of the
yucca juice makes the difference between the impermanent paint used on the
bodies of the dancers and the fixed color with which the headdress and sticks are
painted. Green and blue are not terminologically differentiated.

MATURATION in

Sometimes, before the masked dancers go out to the fire, people come for help
to the place where they are being painted. They come of their own accord. I
never liked to work at this, but I couldn't say "No." When you're all dressed
up and someone comes, and the old man tells you to help them, you have to do it.
You can't say "No." It wouldn't be right.

The general rule is, according to the way some shamans do it, that the leading
dancer blows the disease away. I've done it myself. The others dance behind the
leader as he approaches the sick one from the directions, but they don't touch the
sick person. It seems that the shamans feel it will be better and quicker if the
leader does it instead of all the dancers. Some dancers are beginners. They
might mix things up. But some shamans require all the masked dancers to work
on the sick one and blow the disease away. This takes longer.

It takes about fifteen or twenty minutes for one man to go through it.
While we are dancing, the shaman smokes, prays, and sings. He makes a reg-
ular little ceremony. If the patient does not get better that night, he comes
back the next night.

Not all the curing occurs at the place of preparation. Some-
times arrangements are made by sick persons or their relatives
for the services of the masked dancers at one of the camps be-
low.10

If we were down by the fire and someone was sick, we'd cure him with this
song [a masked-dancer song used for curing or for the painting of the dancers]
off to the side of the grounds.

First the sick person or a relative would have to request the ceremony from
the leader of the masked dancers. He has to throw pollen to the directions, put
pollen over the masked dancer's right foot, and come up and around his body to
the left foot with it. If it is a woman who is sick, she puts a piece of abalone on
his foot. It is tied to a string and has an eagle feather with it. A man puts a piece
of turquoise with an eagle feather there. The shaman doesn't take this and keep
it; the masked-dancer leader keeps it. I had a whole bunch of them. Some other
shamans, like T., take it themselves. But that was not the way of the one for
whom I danced.

This stone and feather can be used back. If I sympathize with someone who
is sick, I give it to him, providing he uses it to ask the man for whom I dance. I
give it to him and tell him how to use it.

When all the ceremonies for which requests have been made
are concluded, the masked dancers make their way to the dance

10 In the summer of 193 1, at a girl's puberty rite, I witnessed such a ceremony
performed over a youth who was becoming increasingly deaf. The rite took
place at the edge of the dance clearing, just to the south of the central fire, before
the impersonators began to dance for the people.

ii2 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

arena. Sounding their call, they burst into the open space from
the east at a trot and circle the fire. They are greeted by the cry
of the women and the prayers of the devout.

.... They would come down at night carrying a big light When they

first came down the hill, even if the camp were a large one, they used to go around
to each home and not miss a single one. Just as soon as the people saw them
coming they began to pray. .... "Men of the Mountain,"11 they would say, "I
wish you would protect me. If anything comes to hurt me, stand in front of me
and help me."

First the dance group "worships the fire" from the directions:

This is what the old man told me when I was the leader of his dancers. "The
first time you come in and go to the fire, go around it four times. Then approach
it from the east. When you get within about eight paces of the fire, just when the
light begins to shine on you, sound the masked-dancer call. Then go around the
fire once. Stop at the south, go toward the fire, sway and make the call in the
same way. Do the same from the west and the north. Next come back where
you started from, the east, and worship the fire again from there."

Sometimes the ceremonial structure is circled and "blessed,"
each pole being approached in clockwise rotation by the single
file of dancers and clasped by the leader. Then the dancers trot
off to the east and vanish in the darkness. On their way through
the camps they may dance back and forth before a dwelling
where there has been sickness or trouble. The entire encamp-
ment may be circled, and sickness frightened away by gesticula-
tion and blowing.

With the arrival of the dancers, the restrictions applicable to
the onlookers come into force. No one may address or call the
name of an impersonator whom he recognizes; no one may point,
with hand or lips, to a masked dancer; nor may anyone touch a
dancer when he is in costume. "If you don't worship them in the
right way, you should be frightened." However, neither men nor
women confuse the impersonators with the actual Mountain
Spirits. "The dancers do not turn into the real Mountain Spirits
while they are dancing. They stay men but just get more
strength." The restrictions are obeyed, not from fear of the

11 A term for Mountain Spirits indicating greatest respect and used when
supplicating these supernaturals or when there is reason to fear them.

PLATE VII

a) Masked Dancers Coming Down from the Hills at Dusk

b) Worshiping the Fire

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MATURATION 113

power of those dancing, but because "the real Mountain Spirits
could bring on sickness or death if these things were violated."
The added strength of the masked dancers is attributed to the
costumes they wear:

The costume gives the dancer strength. He doesn't get tired. There are no
holes near the nose for breathing in the masks. The man wearing the mask is
righting for breath. When he gets tired, he runs his sticks around his body and
then flourishes them in the air, and in this way he rids himself of his tiredness. If
it was not for this, he couldn't last through one song.

When the masked dancers return, a knot of men assembled
just northeast of the entrance of the ceremonial structure is
ready to beat out the measure of the songs with stout sticks on a
thick piece of rawhide. Others hold buckskin-covered pottery
drums which they will strike with curved drumsticks.

From the east the masked dancers spring into the glare of the

firelight and move swiftly around the fire:

When the leader of the masked dancers throws his arms wide, this means to
the singers that they are to begin. The men at the rawhide know that this is the
signal. If they don't start to sing, the dancers go past them, then turn toward
them and repeat the gesture. If they don't start then, the dancers can leave the
grounds if they want to. Many times I have done that. I figured, "Well, I'm not
going to let them just watch me! It's no use to run around here without any
song." Sometimes, as you come toward the rawhide after blessing the fire, they
start right in. Then, as you go past, you cry, "Hoo-hoo-hoo!" which is just like
saying, "That's fine! That's what we want!" The masked dancers can't talk but
they make that sound. It means, "Go ahead and sing." I was told to make the
masked-dancer call when turquoise, abalone, cloud, Mountain Spirit, White
Painted Woman, and other holy things and people were mentioned in the songs.

The songs to which the dancers perform at the feast grounds
are not the same as those to which they were painted but are
associated with definite dance steps. The shaman may know and
use both kinds of songs, but just as often another person will lead
the singing during the evening. The relatives of the adolescent
girl have to make sure that some qualified person will be present
to perform this function.

I am an official singer for masked dancers. The parents of the girl will ask
me to sing at their feast. They pay me. I will be singing for one family. I learned
these songs. I sat in and gained experience. No one else would sing my songs.
It's not done.

1 14 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

It is the privilege of the singer to begin the song and to recite
alone the prayer or half-spoken, half-chanted portion inter-
spersed between the nonsense-syllable refrains. At the refrain
the other members of the chorus join in heartily again, and so
these songs give the impression of great bursts of melody, sud-
denly hushed and as suddenly resumed and swelled. When a
singer of these songs grows tired or feels that he should make way
for another, he relinquishes his post and joins the chorus, while
his successor contributes other songs. The songs of any individ-
ual are well known to those of his region, so that it is always pos-
sible to bring together a chorus.

The songs are classified in three groups, each related to one of
three types of dance: the "free step," the "short step," and the
"high step." The dancers, and especially the leader, must be able
to recognize a song at once and enter upon the proper step.

The performance always begins with a free-step song, so called
because it imposes less formal restrictions upon the actions of the
dancers and allows more exhibition of individuality than either
of the other two. When he hears this music, "a man uses his own
judgment and dances according to his feelings." The best per-
formers contest in the firelight for the rolling, throaty call of
approval of the audience.

The prayers of the free-step songs are similar in theme to those
of the songs sung when the dancers are painted:

I

At the place called "Home in the Center of the Sky,"

Inside is the home's holiness.

The door to the home is of white clouds.

There all the Gray Mountain Spirits

Rejoicing over me

Kneel in the four directions with me.

II

When first my power was created,
Pollen's body, speaking my words,
Brought my power into being,
So I have come here.

MATURATION 115

After the first, free-step, masked-dancer song, "they switch
around, singing the songs of the different steps so that the
masked dancers don't get tired." A second type of song is that
which accompanies the short step. The words of these songs are
much like those of the free-step songs, but the rhythm and mode
of execution of the step are different. The dance is marked by
bodily rigidity, studied posturing, and short, terse steps.

The third kind of song is that to which the dancers perform
the high step. The prayers of these songs reveal nothing new.
But the dance step itself departs widely from the others. As soon
as the dancers recognize the character of the song, they form a
circle around the fire, facing away from it, and dance with vehe-
mence, throwing first one leg and then the other forward and up-
ward. The dance is much like the Russian trepak except that the
performers do not squat so low during its execution. Although
this dance is the most spectacular of the three and is constantly
requested by the audience, it is so difficult that it is performed
much less often than the other two.

Despite the excitement and the rivalry the potential dangers
for the participants are never forgotten. If two dancers collide,
especially if they have been painted by different shamans, and
one drops a stick, he dare not pick it up at once. He will stagger
around as if dazed until his companions, lining up in single file,
"worship" the wand from the directions and the leader picks it
up and returns it to him.

Inside the ceremonial structure. — While the exhibition of the
masked dancers is at its height, another phase of the rite, more
closely associated with the fate of the pubescent girl, is quietly
unfolding.

Sometime during the early part of the night the singer makes
his way to the place where the girl and her attendant await him.
The girl hands him the rattle that was intrusted to her. He ex-
tends an eagle feather toward her, and she grasps the tip of it
with her right hand. He shakes the rattle and walks slowly back-
ward, singing:

They move her by means of the finest eagle feather,

By means of it White Painted Woman walks into her home.

n6 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

A singer has described this act: "In the evening when the girl
first comes out to dance, I lead her with the eagle feather. There
is one song to lead the girl in with. I go a little way and sing it
again. The fourth time I go right in and put the girl in the cor-
ner.

But before they enter, the attendant, who has followed them
carrying an untanned hide, and who has given her call of ap-
plause at each of the four stops, hurries to the rear of the struc-
ture and spreads out the skin. She is followed by the girl, who
skirts the fire clockwise (as must always be done when entering
or leaving the ceremonial structure) and sits or kneels on the hide,
facing the east. If she sits, her legs are flexed under her to the
side. Her trunk is held erect, as it should be as long as she re-
mains in the holy place. The singer squats close to the fire, at the
south. Behind him sits the attendant, near the center of the
south wall. Relatives of the girl and visitors pass clockwise about
the structure and make their way to the west. Some latecomers
sit in the doorway.

The singer, before going after the girl, has arranged a number
of ritual objects. At the main pole of the south he has tied (or
stuck into the oak boughs), butt end toward the east, a length
of oak wood which is called the "age stick." This, the symbol of
long life, stands for the cane his charge will use in her old age. It
will serve him as a fire poker and as a support while he sings. On
the same pole hangs a fuse of shredded juniper bark tied with
yucca strands. This fuse, representative of fire and the hearth,
he will use to ignite the ceremonial cigarettes he smokes. On the
pole, too, is a grama grass brush which will be used "to brush off
evil influences" from the girl and to apply white paint to her.

The singer unfastens these objects and brings them to the fire-
side. After the ceremony of the first night he will return them to
a main pole, this time to the one at the west. In the same way he
will continue to move them in sunwise rotation each night until,
at the beginning of the fourth and last night, the ceremonial cir-
cuit will be completed, and these objects will be found on the east
pole.

At the edge of the fire other objects have been arranged. The

MATURATION 117

fire pit is flanked at each cardinal point by a flat rock painted red
on top. These "stand for" the mescal or century plant, a food
staple, and act as a prayer that the girl may find and prepare an
abundant supply of mescal in the course of her life. A stone bowl,
the mortar for the paints of the ceremony, is set toward the east
this first night. This, too, will be moved each night.

The singer rolls a cigarette, lights it with the slow fuse, and
smokes and prays. His voice is hardly audible. The attendant,
using the same fuse, also offers smoke ceremonially. Then the
singer starts to shake the hoof rattle which he holds in his right
hand and begins his first song.

The songs of this ceremony are in reality a journey in which
the girl is brought to the holy home and from there is conducted
symbolically through a long and successful life.

We think of a woman's life as blocked out in parts. One is girlhood, one is
young womanhood, one is middle age, and one is old age. The songs are supposed
to carry her through them. The first songs describe the holy home and the cere-
mony. Later come the songs about the flowers and the growing things. These
stand for her youth, and as the songs go through the seasons the girl is growing
up and reaching old age.

At the conclusion of a song the singer explained:
This song is about flowers. We are taking this girl through a beautiful life.
This is the conception of a beautiful life for the Apache. We take the girl through
beautiful lands, past flowers, through seasons with their fruits. The translation
doesn't mean much, but there is a great deal to it if you think about it.

There is a general tendency to move, as the songs continue,
from the more remote and abstract qualities to the growing
things of the earth.

The big ceremony starts with songs of the sun, the moon, and such things.
Then comes the earth. Then the songs are mostly about the earth and the things
that grow on it, about the fruits, the trees, the plants; about even the children.
Nothing is left out

.... On the fourth night the songs deal with all the different grasses and
carry them through all the different stages of development, from spring to winter.
Then by morning we are through.

The songs belong to two general groups, and each kind of song
is accompanied by a different dance. Most numerous are the
"shuffling-step" songs, and, when these are sung, the girl stands,

n8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

raises her arms upright from the elbows with palms outward,
holds her feet close together, and moves from left to right and
right to left by alternately pivoting on her toes and her heels.
The second type of song calls for an "in-place" step and provides
rest from the exertions of the first type. In its performance the
girl sways in place with her hands on her hips.12

Because of the repetition of its verses, each song is long, and
the shuffling step is very tiring. But, whenever the girl is weary,
she may stop and kneel, even though the song is not finished.
The singer makes no attempt to test or to overtax her.

The singer watches the girl and uses his judgment. The idea is not to let her
get too tired. There is the dance the girls do with their arms up. The word for it
means "shuffling," sliding to a place as a horse does. They sing about six songs
of this kind and then change to the one where the girl dances in place with her
hands on her hips. The singer tells the girl which dance to do if she does not
know. They sing fewer songs of this second kind. These are just to rest the girl.

Every fourth, sixth, or twelfth song may be set aside for a
"smoking song," after which the singer smokes or prays:

After about six songs they have a smoking song. They smoke after this song;
all those inside can smoke then. There is no dancing during the smoking song.
The girl can rest; she can kneel but cannot sit. She must have her body erect.
There are many of the smoking songs. After this they start singing and dancing
again.

The initial song of the first night is of the shuffling-step type.
"This is the first song sung. It is the home's own song, the first
one sung when they are in there." The second song, also of the
shuffling-step variety, simply repeats between refrains these
words :

I have walked well

Into the home of White Painted Woman.

Now follow songs of the singer's choosing, fixed only in accord-
ance with the general pattern already outlined. No definite num-
ber of songs need be sung during the night. One singer remarked:

13 An informant described a third step, which he claims was formerly danced
by the pubescent girl. "It is called 'walking around.' The girl has her arms up
and her elbows pointed down. She walks forward, turns toward the south, and
comes back, doing this four times. It's mostly to rest and relax." This step is
not performed now.

MATURATION 119

"In summer I sing fewer songs because the nights are short. In
winter I sing more." After the introductory numbers, the songs
are arranged in groups of fours. The songs of each group are
called "siblings of the same sex" because, in passing from one to
another in a set of four songs, an alteration of a word or two of
the prayer may be the only discernible change.

Throughout the dancing the attendant remains in her station
at the south. Whenever, in the course of the singing, the names
of supernaturals or sacred substances are mentioned, she raises
her voice in the call of applause.

The songs of the ceremony are too numerous to reproduce in
full, but a few of different types, representative of the first
night's repertory, are here given in free translation. First are two
shuffling-step dance songs:

I

Killer of Enemies, source of long life,

White Painted Woman has come inside;

She grows up by means of it.

II

The spruce home of White Painted Woman is built of long life,

By means of a home built of this she has gone inside,

By means of her power of goodness White Painted Woman has come to her,

By means of it the words have gone inside.

Of the in-place dance songs the following two examples are
offered :

I

I come to White Painted Woman,

By means of long life I come to her.

I come to her by means of her blessing,

I come to her by means of her good fortune,

I come to her by means of all her different fruits;

By means of the long life she bestows, I come to her;

By means of this holy truth she goes about.

II

I am about to sing this song of yours,

The song of long life.

Sun, I stand here on the earth with your song;

Moon, I have come in with your song.

120 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The translation below indicates the character of the third type
of song — the smoking song. Often, when the men who are sitting
just outside the structure singing and drumming for the masked
dancers hear one of these songs, they also pause to smoke.

The time for smoking has come.

With the sun's tobacco let all be made pleasant.

From here on let good constantly follow,

From now on let many old men and old women rejoice;

Let them come back to many ceremonies like this;

Let all the girls be happy;

Let them know many ceremonies like this;

Let all rejoice;

Let all the boys rejoice;

Let them attend many ceremonies like this.

The dancing within the ceremonial structure is brought to an
early close the first night. Sometimes the masked dancers are
still circling the fire as the singer, the attendant, and the girl file
sunwise from the holy home. If this is the case, the girl may be
asked to shuffle around the fire in the wake of the masked im-
personators before leaving for her camp. Meanwhile the attend-
ant has gathered up the hide, the rattle, and the feather and will
keep them until they are needed on the following night.

The social dancing. — If the masked dancers have not left be-
fore the girl has concluded her dance within the ceremonial struc-
ture, they disappear for the night soon afterward. But the eve-
ning's activities have scarcely begun for the visitors. Social danc-
ing is closely associated in the popular mind with the ceremony,
for this is one of the few occasions which brings together enough
people to make it possible. The dances take place every night
and must follow an invariable order.

The songs for the social dances contrast markedly with the
sacred music:

With the social dance songs it is different. They don't belong to any one per-
son. Anyone can sing them. Anyone can make up his own, and, if it is a good one
and the people like it, he and others will keep singing it. Anyone can join in these
songs if he knows them, even in the part with the words. These songs are funny.
You can say almost anything in them.

MATURATION 121

A dignified old man, when he was working out the details of some
music, indicated the great difference between the social dance
songs and the ceremonial songs:

I want you to keep these [girl's puberty rite] songs private. I am not a foolish
man and do not sing these songs easily. Some of the Indians might not like it.
But the social dance songs are all right. I don't care what you do about them.

This is the way two composers of social dance songs went
about their task:

Y. and I made up a couple of these songs. We worked them out together. I
went over to his place, and we patched them up. First he'd sing a little and then
I'd sing a little, and we'd agree on it and work it out. We practiced. Then we
sang them at the last girl's puberty rite. All the people liked them. The word
part of one goes like this:

Young woman, young woman,
We've been very intimate,
But now stay away from me.

Another composer sang his own song and some others from
which he had drawn his inspiration:

I took some old songs and chose a little from one and a little from another. I
used about three and worked one new song out of them. I did it while I was away
on a trip. Then I sang this song at the ceremony when I came back. At the last
ceremony I sang it for four nights straight. All the people said it was a good song.

But by no means are all these songs recent compositions or
modifications. Many old favorites continue to be as popular as
ever:

Some of the songs for this are very old. I'll sing one for you. It's very old;
perhaps two hundred years old. When I was just a little boy at Fort Apache fifty
years ago, just old enough to listen to singing, I heard it. There was one very old
man who sat by a fire working on arrows and singing it. And while he sang it he
was crying. This song reminded him of the times when he was a young man.
That's why I think it is so old. It goes like this:

Young woman, you are thinking of something,
Young woman, you are thinking of something;
You are thinking of what you are going to get:
That man of whom you are thinking is worthless!

This comment suggests one of the greatest appeals of the so-
cial dance songs — their associations. The occasions when they
have been heard and learned are memorable points in the indi-
vidual career — moments of travel, adventure, and courtship:

122 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

This is the song to which my wife and I fell in love. It's not much of a song;
but I thought a lot of it and so did she. N. was singing it. It is his morning song.
I went out with her under the pinon trees and I sang this song to her during the
days of the feast. I've had this song for my favorite ever since. It reminds my
wife and me of that time.

The few words of a social dance song are rich in implication.
Once an old man dismissed American songs with a contemptu-
ous, "There isn't much singing to them; it's all words!" Doubt-
less he was thinking of the more subtle technique of his people,
by which, with a few well-chosen words and a wealth of inner
meaning, a dozen youths can be made to hang their heads.

As soon as the masked dancers have departed for the night,
the first of the social dances — the round dance — begins. Several
men holding pottery drums come together. Others form a com-
pact knot around them, and this group, their arms around each
other's shoulders, circles the fire clockwise. One man, ordinarily
one of the drummers, begins a song, and the others join in. Now
women step out and stand at the side of the singers, forming a
circle. Sometimes the circle incloses the singers. The dancers
face the fire and shuffle sideways, clockwise, in time to the music.

In the round-dance songs such words as "Stoop," or "Faster,"
may be the only words, and the dancers are expected to follow
these commands. Others may contain only a short phrase or two,
but these few words satirize common foibles and provoke general
amusement. In a certain round-dance song one question is sim-
ply repeated over and over:

What belongs to us?

This seems enigmatic to an outsider, but it is fraught with mean-
ing to the dancers:

This is a round-dance song. "What belongs to us?" Where are our posses-
sions? We haven't got anything. That is what this song means. Many people
get married but haven't anything. What is going to be ours when we get mar-
ried? Suppose I am dancing. I want to marry a girl though I have nothing.
Then I'll be ashamed when they sing trusts lots of boys are.

Another of these songs derides the marriage of a young girl to

an ill-favored old man:

She married an old man
With big buttocks!

MATURATION 123

The domestic intruder receives mention:

He asks me what happened
To his wife!

For the young people who are planning an assignation, a song

has this reminder:

Wait for me

At the high bluff over there.

One song has to do with those who have become acquainted at

the feast and soon must separate:

You will go back to your distant home;
We will be lonesome.

At midnight, often at the time when the second social dance of
the evening is about to get under way, food is again served.

I have called the second dance of the night the "partner"
dance:

After the circle dance, the men get in a group by the fire and the women go
around and choose partners. A woman pulls at a man's clothes or pokes him if
she wants him for a partner. Then he has to dance.

It's a general rule that the man has to pay the woman something if he dances
with her. He pays after the four nights. If you haven't got anything, you tell
the woman the first night so she can choose someone else. It is understood that if
you dance with a woman you have something for her. It's not that you have to
pay if you dance, but it's just too bad if you don't. Everybody talks about you.
The girl will tell everyone. She will say, "That man is no good; he didn't pay."
All the girls will say this then.

The girl dances with the same man for the four nights. It is right then that
they fall in love. A girl chooses a boy she likes. I got acquainted with my wife
this way. I danced with her. That's what these dances are mostly for.

To execute the partner dance, a man and woman remain in the
same line but face in opposite directions. The man's left arm is
opposite the woman's left arm, or his right arm is opposite her
right arm. The couples, who are scattered here and there, dance
forth and back in relation to the fire, about four steps one way
and then four the other. Occasionally, two women tap the same
man and then he must dance with both and must finally pay
both.

Blood kin and affinal relatives, including husband and wife,
may not dance together. "You have to be sure you are not re-

i24 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

lated. Sometimes a man makes a mistake and asks a girl who is
his kin to dance with him. She says, 'No, you are related to
me.

There is a definite etiquette attached to the partner dance:

Some touch or link arms. A very prominent or dignified man would not touch
a woman during the dance though. He wouldn't get familiar. A man who dances
politely will have his hands locked over his breast. It shows that the man is not
bothering the woman. N. [a prominent Chiricahua] always danced with his
hands locked over his chest.

An unmarried man may dance with a married woman, or the other way
around. It is all right to talk to your partner while you are dancing.

The songs of the partner dance do not differ materially from
those of the round dance.

We will go to the last home.

are the only words of one. Its inner meaning is somewhat more
complex, however: "The song means that perhaps your camp is
the one far from the feast grounds and that after the dance you
two are going over there together."

In another song of this type ridicule is heaped on the young
man who is enamored of an older woman, the mother of children :

When there is a gathering for the ceremony, sweetheart,
I will take care of your baby for you,
I will take care of your baby for you.

Still another runs as follows:

Oh, Mescalero maiden, don't be afraid;
They are already gossiping about us,

But don't be afraid.
They who speak so chew rocks;13

Don't be afraid.

The songs of the third and last social dance of each night of the
puberty rite may appropriately be called the morning-dance
songs, since the dance they accompany begins several hours be-
fore dawn and continues until daybreak.

Toward morning the songs change, and the men and women separate and get
in two lines facing each other. The lines are pretty far apart, and the partners of
the dance which has just ended are right across from each other. When the sing-

13 That is, "are envious"; witches are often said to "chew rocks."

MATURATION 125

ing starts, the lines come toward each other, stopping a few feet apart, and then
separate. They go back and forth like this. The singers are in a line with the
men and go back and forth with them. This dancing goes on until sunrise.

The round-dance songs and the partner-dance songs may or
may not have words, but the songs of the morning dance always
have words. These morning-dance songs are the favorites. "The
morning songs, the love songs, sound beautiful. They are high
pitched. We like them best of all. People just fall in love there
singing them."

Some of these compositions well earn the name of "love song"
which informants have given them:

I

I see that girl again,

Then I become like this;
I see my own sweetheart again,

Then I become like this.

II

Maiden, you talk kindly to me,

You, I shall surely remember it,
I shall surely remember you alone,
Your words are so kind,

You, I shall surely remember it.

A reproachful note is struck in one of these songs :
My sweetheart, we surely could have gone home,

But you were afraid!
When it was night we surely could have gone home,

But you were afraid!

Of the manner of singing the following somewhat acrid song a
commentator said:

The song is really sung by the men all the way through. But the men take
the part of the women and then of the men. As they dance together, the men
take the part first of one and then of the other. When the men are singing the
part of the men, they change the word "man" in the song to "woman."

Man from a distant land,
Why do you talk to me?
Why do you talk to me?
Why do you talk to me?
What have you done for me
But just talk to me?

126 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Another morning song purports to be a passage between a man
and a woman who is endeavoring to hide her age so that she may-
have a good time:

They tell me you are old:
I, I don't think so.

Then there are the lines depicting the confusion of two young
friends who cannot bring themselves to separate:

Woman from a far land,
Give me your moccasins that I may be going.

Man from a far land,
Give me your moccasins that I may be going.

At dawn those who have remained up all night disperse for a
few hours of rest. There will be no morning ceremony to rouse
them, for the puberty rite proper of the second day is not re-
sumed until nightfall.

Events through the fourth night. — During the morning and
afternoon of the second day visiting, feasting, gambling, and
sporadic social dancing take place. The girl has no special duties
during the day, although she must be mindful of her general re-
strictions. If she becomes restless, she may be permitted to walk
toward the hills or to join in the daytime social dancing for short
intervals.

At dusk the events of the preceding evening are repeated with-
out significant variation. The central fire is renewed, the masked
dancers appear, the pubescent girl is led to the ceremonial struc-
ture, and later in the evening the same social dances, in identical
order, are again performed.

In outline the third day and third night differ in no essential
way from the second day and night. The activities of the fourth
day, moreover, follow closely those of the second and third days.

But the fourth night of the ceremony departs in several im-
portant respects from what has gone before. The first events are
the familiar ones. At dusk the masked dancers appear and repeat
their performance. And, as before, when the masked-dancer dis-
play is at its height, the singer leads the girl to the ceremonial

MATURATION 127

structure. This time, however, he brings with him a bundle of
narrow sticks of mock orange wood. Beginning at the southeast
and moving clockwise around the fire pit, he erects one stick for
every song he sings this fourth night, until the fire pit is sur-
rounded except for a space to the east that must remain open.
After every set of four songs has been sung and the corresponding
four sticks have been set up, a fifth, shorter length of wood is
placed horizontally on the ground between this set and the one
to follow. This horizontal piece represents a smoking song pre-
sumably: "When I lay the stick down, there is a song about
smoking that goes with it. The song comes first, then I put the
stick down, then smoke, then pray, then go on to the next set."
For the first three nights the singing and dancing within the
structure cease at midnight or before. But this night they con-
tinue until daybreak.

The songs of the second, third, and fourth nights to which the
girl dances are a continuation of the life-journey pattern. In
order to indicate the sweep of this ritual progression, a number of
songs, arranged roughly in chronological order in respect to the
rite as a whole, are introduced. The first, a shuffling-step song,
has to do with the birds:

White Painted Woman commands that which lies above,

Killer of Enemies commands,

By means of long life they command.

From the mouth of the chief bird

Yellowness emerges by means of it,

By means of it yellow emerges from your mouth.

The girl's necklace, symbolic of lifelong wealth, is celebrated
in a shuffling-step song:

The words of Killer of Enemies, good through long life,

Have entered you;

They have entered you by means of your necklace;

Your necklace has gone into your body,

For its power is good.

Of the next song, which he called "She Sleeps with It," the
singer said:

128 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

In this song the girl is taken through the sleeping period, through a rest pe-
riod. We take her through all experiences with these songs.

White Painted Woman's power emerges,

Her power for sleep.

White Painted Woman carries this girl;

She carries her through long life,

She carries her to good fortune,

She carries her to old age,

She bears her to peaceful sleep.

The growth of the things of the earth is emphasized in many
of the songs. This one tells of the grasses:

By means of the ceremony I have gone to White Painted Woman,
I have gone to the source of long life created of goodness.
White Painted Woman, her grasses are striped with yellow,
Killer of Enemies spoke thus;

White Painted Woman, her grasses are much striped with blue,
Killer of Enemies, his grasses are much striped with red.

Periods of life are commemorated:

White Painted Woman has reached middle age by means of it,
She has reached middle age by means of it,
By means of it she has entered long life,
She has reached middle age by means of it.

The last years of life are referred to symbolically in song in
terms of the "old age staff":

He made the black staff of old age for me,
He made the road of the sun for me;
These holy things he has made for me, saying,
"With these you will grow old."
Now when I have become old,
You will remember me by means of them.

If this selection is allowed to represent the song cycle as it un-
folds through the four nights, the events which take place in the
interior of the ceremonial structure until sunrise of the fifth day
have been indicated.

On the fourth night the masked dancers have an additional
and interesting role:

On the last night the masked dancers come out and stay all night. They do
their own dances until ten or eleven o'clock. Then comes the round dance. They

MATURATION 129

save about four good masked dancers, keep them fresh. These go around for
about an hour and chase all the people out to dance. They even chase them from
their camps and get them out of bed. They bring out the girls and make them
dance. The masked dancers do not push the people toward the dance grounds
with their hands. They just make the noise and motion with their sticks. They
get a girl and give their cry and bring her out. I have gone after them this way.
Toward morning even the girl for whom the feast is given can be brought out to
dance.

The restriction against speaking lapses for the masked dancers
at this time:

The masked dancer asks a girl, "Who shall I get for you to dance with?"
The girl says, "That man by the fire." So the dancer goes over there and pulls
that fellow. The man never pulls back. He has to go and dance.

The relaxation of the masked dancer's semisacred role goes
even further:

The last night the masked dancer can dance with any girl if she chooses him,
and this girl has to be paid. But the feast-maker has to pay her for him. The
masked dancer has been helping him all night, so of his own accord the feast-
giver walks out there and pays the girl. I have seen that happen many times.

Every man has to compensate his partner at the close of the
dancing:

One time everyone was paying but one man. He had nothing with him, but
he must have had some horses over at his camp. This man walked around there
and picked up a dry ball of horse dung. He walked back to the place where the
other men were paying the women. He went to the girl he had danced with and
right before the crowd he handed her the horse dung. Even in those days very
few knew the meaning of this. Horses were very scarce then, and it was pretty
hard to part with a horse and give it to anybody.

The girl receiving the horse dung didn't know the meaning of it. She took it
home to her people, to her camp. She told her father and mother, "This is all I
got!"

Her father was an old man and knew what it meant. He told her right away,
"That's more than the other people got over there. That means a horse; that
man means he is going to give you a horse." Sure enough, that came true.

Upon the givers of the feast falls the responsibility of seeing
that all participants are satisfied with their rewards: "If a girl
is not paid and the boy runs away, she can go to the ones giving
the ceremony or to someone in authority there and protest.
This has been done." As a final gesture of appreciation toward

130 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

those who have helped make the social aspect of their ceremony
a success, the hosts "give a personal present to the women who
dance until sunup."

Conclusion. — The final events of the rite should take place in
the sun's rays and, if the sunrise is obscured by clouds, the people
wait patiently for the emergence of the first beams. As the east-
ern skies become lighter, twelve songs, familiarly known as
"stop" songs, close another chapter of the ceremony. One of the
last of these, heralding the appearance of the sun, simply repeats
over and over:

The sun, emerging,

Says to me, "My grandchild."

The last of this series is a graceful apotheosis of the life-journey
upon which the adolescent girl has embarked:

You have started out on the good earth;

You have started out with good moccasins;

With moccasin strings of the rainbow, you have started out;

With moccasin strings of the sun's rays, you have started out;

In the midst of plenty you have started out.

Now the girl faces the east, kneeling on the hide. The space to
the east of the ceremonial structure is cleared of all loiterers:

They won't let anyone, even a dog, go across between the sun and the cere-
monial structure on the last morning. They say that anyone who does this will
get sick and die. I believe it. T.'s daughter didn't think and went across once
just as the sun was coming up. She died soon afterward.

The sticks which have been erected around the fire pit during
the singing are gathered up in clockwise direction, tied in a
bundle, and deposited in the coiled basket tray containing the
other ceremonial objects.

The singer faces the east with the basket before him and sings
four songs. Everything is taken out of the basket except white
clay. Then the singer faces the girl and puts pollen first on his
own face and head and then on her head. Meanwhile the at-
tendant has mixed water with the white clay in the basket. After
another song, the singer paints a line of white and red on the
girl's face. Again he turns to the east. He hands his rattle to a
man who comes forward to assist him.

MATURATION 131

He dips his right forefinger into the red paint, holds it up, and
sings the "Red Paint Song." Using a splinter of wood to trace
the rays, he draws a sun symbol on the palm of his left hand in
pollen, red ocher, and specular iron ore. While he does this, he
sings a song, "a long one because it takes a long time to put that
design on":

Now I'll make long life of the sun's rays,

Now I'll make long life of the sun's pointed rays,

I'll make peaks extending outward.

The rays of the sun and long life are made of pollen,

The points of the sun and long life are made of pollen,

The points of the sun and long life are made of specular iron ore,

The rays of the sun and long life are made of specular iron ore,

The rays of the sun and long life are made of blue paint,

The points of the sun and long life are made of blue paint,

The rays of the sun and long life are made of red paint,

The points of the sun and long life are made of red paint,

The rays of the sun and long life are made of white paint,

The points of the sun and long life are made of white paint.

The completed sun symbol is held up to the advancing shafts
of light as the singer chants:

That which comes has come well out,
In here it has come.

Again the singer faces the girl. He touches the painted hand to
her body at various places, circles her head clockwise with it,
and finally obliterates the symbol by rubbing it over her head
just as the rays of the sun shine upon her. At this time, too, the
singer ties a piece of abalone shell or turquoise to the girl's fore-
lock.

The eagle feather with which the girl has been led to the in-
closure each of the four nights has been thrust into the bundle
of grama grass. The singer uses the stems and the quill of this
bundle as a brush to paint the girl with white clay. First he
paints the right side and then the left side of her face, next her
right arm below the elbow and her left arm, and finally her legs
from the moccasin tops to the knees. This is a signal for the on-
lookers to press forward. With the materials left, the singer
marks them on various parts of their bodies as they file past him.

i32 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When no more come, he returns to the girl, removes the eagle
feather from the improvised paint brush, and extends the tip
toward her. She grasps this, arises, and follows him as he walks
backward, shaking his rattle and singing. Before they reach the
front of the ceremonial structure, he has paused four times and
sung two songs "about walking along the place of many fruit
trees."

Meanwhile the attendant has replaced the ritual objects in
the basket. She lays down a buckskin, head to the east, and
places the laden basket before it. When the singer and the girl
pause at the hide, the eagle feather is added to the tray's con-
tents.

No sooner have the singer and the adolescent left the cere-
monial structure than containers of food are brought and placed
in a straight line extending east of the fire pit. The singer marks
each food receptacle with a pollen cross, and the people eat.

After the meal the men begin to dismantle the ceremonial
structure, stripping the oak boughs from the sides and leaving
the framework, the four main poles, standing alone.

A "trail" of pollen and specular iron ore is now prepared for
the girl. Working from west to east, the singer outlines four
footprints on the skin, the first in specular iron ore, the second in
pollen, the third in specular iron ore again, and the fourth in
pollen. Slowly, as her guide sings, the girl leads with her right
foot and walks along this ceremonial path. At the end of the
fourth verse and fourth step she stands at the head of the hide.
Children, old people, and the infirm then walk along this same
path.

Now the attendant takes the basket tray and, as was done
the first morning of the rite, places it twenty-five or thirty paces
to the east. At a word from the singer, the adolescent runs to
the basket, circles it clockwise, and returns to the starting-place.
The call of the attendant is heard as she runs. After the run the
basket is moved westward. For two more runs an identical pro-
cedure is followed, but on the fourth and last run, the girl com-
pletely circles the basket, bends low to pick up the feather from
it, and trots east once more to some designated point. She circles
it clockwise and heads westward once again.

MATURATION

*33

The last run is made so that the girl will be strong, so that she will be a good
runner and have a good heart [i.e., be brave]. Some used to run about a quarter
of a mile to the east this last time. Because of this some girls became as good
runners as men in the old days. If they have far to go, they do not have to run
all the way. They can alternate between walking and running.

As the girl approaches the ceremonial structure for the last
time, the attendant calls; the main poles are pushed to the east;
and, as favors are tossed in the air and the children scramble for
them, the girl makes her way to the encampment of her parents.

The temporary camps that have been established for the
period of the rite begin to disappear. The poles of the ceremonial
structure lie unmolested; they may not be used for firewood.

The girl's family stays on the grounds four days after the ceremony ends.
During that time the girl can't wash and has to wear her costume. She must use
the scratcher and reed for these four days too.

The girl has still another ritual duty to perform:

The little ceremony where the girl gives the horse takes place four days after
the close of the big feast. A horse, any kind of a horse, is required. It always was
so and has been handed down. She is still dressed in her costume. She walks the
horse to the singer. That ends it. Her part is now over.

On the morning of the ninth day "before the sun comes up, the
woman who cares for the girl [attendant] prepares yucca root
and warm water and washes the girl's hair and entire body."

The prevailing tone of this ceremony is one of pleasure and
promise. The physiological aspects of maturation are little em-
phasized. The behavior restrictions imposed upon the girl are
not irksome, and their violation brings no really dire conse-
quences. She is not isolated but achieves recognition as the cen-
tral figure of a major social and ritual event during which she is
likened to a supernatural being. Her formal introduction to
adult status is accomplished in the midst of abundance, ritual
safeguards, and festivity; therefore, she has little desire to return
to the status which preceded the recognition accorded her.

Many heterogeneous elements combine to produce the girl's
puberty rite. The singer, the attendant, the masked-dancer
shaman, the dancers themselves, the musical accompanists for
the social dance songs — all possess individual prerogatives which
are not subject to call. The participation of these persons can

i34 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

only be guaranteed by separate arrangements between them and
the sponsors of the ceremony. Various aspects of the rite, such as
the masked dancing and the singing within the ceremonial struc-
ture, have but the loosest relations to one another from a purely
logical point of view. Yet everyone regards the ritual as a unity
and accepts that somehow all the necessities will be secured and
the integration achieved in time-honored fashion. No threat to
individual rights is made, and there is no danger of reprisal for
failure to respond. The motive force is primarily psychological.
Because the people at large share in the blessing of the girl and
because the ceremony provides them with an eagerly awaited
social occasion, to take part in the total round of activities be-
comes almost a public duty.

THE NOVITIATE FOR RAID AND WAR

When the boy reaches the age at which the girl is elevated to
womanhood, he is still undergoing the hardening process. Tasks
allotted to the young woman can be graduated according to her
strength, but the young man on the raid must cover the same
distance and suffer the same hardships as the sturdiest member
of the party. Therefore, his social maturation is slower.

At about his sixteenth year the youth approaches manly
standards. Yet he is not permitted to plunge recklessly from
raiding games to the dangerous reality of stealing the horses of
the enemy. Instead, he must serve an apprenticeship on his first
four raiding or war expeditions. During this period, though he
is exposed to a minimum of danger, he acquires the experience
which will enable him to undertake with confidence the hazards
of war. This novitiate constitutes the conventionalized mecha-
nism through which the youth reaches adult status.

Before a boy is accepted as a novice, he learns how to care for
himself on the march, especially what to do if he should become
separated from the others :

My relatives and the older men told me, "If you are going on a journey from
here, have the women pound meat and fat for you, enough for a week. Take
water. Then at sundown, just when it is dark enough so that you can't be seen in
the distance, start out. Try to make it across the flats and to the mountains on
the other side by daybreak. Then get in the brush and look around. Keep in the

MATURATION 135

brush until night and then start out to the next mountain range. Don't go across
flats in the day. Only travel day and night if you are in the mountains."

About water they told me this: "If you don't know where there is water, get
up on a high place and look for the green spots. Where there are trees and green
grass growing, there you will find water. Don't go to it in the day though. Ene-
mies look for you there. No matter how thirsty you are, wait until night comes.
Then go there, drink, and fill up any water container you have brought with
you."

Also they told me to go to sleep in a place from which I could get to cover
quickly. And they told me, "Even if it is a hot day, don't go to the deep shade.
Go under a little bush in the open or under grass. The first place a Mexican or
another Indian or a wild animal looks when it comes along is in the shade, and
there you are. If you are in the tall grass and hear something, just pick some
grass up, hold it before you, and look through it. Then it will be hard to see you,
especially from a distance. If you are out where the brush is heavy and you want
to conceal yourself without moving, just take a branch which is to the right or
left and pull it in front of you."

I was spoken to in this manner also. "If you see someone in the distance and
don't know who it is, pick out a place from which you can get to cover easily but
which is in the open and visible from this cover. Take grass and make a fire and
put evergreen on to make a heavy smoke. Then put it out at once and run to the
place from which you can see well. The person will come over to the place where
the fire was, and you can tell who he is. You are in a good place from which to
strike or get away if he is an enemy, and you can go to him if he is a friend.

"If you are lost or want to find someone, make a fire and a smoke and put it
out. Look around then. Your friends will make one too and then you'll find
them. If you want someone to follow you, send up smoke and at the place put a
notched stick pointing toward the direction in which you went. Your friends
will find it. They will come in to your people and say, 'The fire looks as though it
was made two or three days ago; we'd better follow at once.' "

They told me how to camp out in bad weather too. They said: "In winter
try to find a tree with wide branches, for there will be less snow under it than in
other places. Rake away what snow is there. Find a dry spot, cut branches, and
pile them on it, and put your robe on them. Sleep near a fire there. Build the
fire on top of the ground if you are not going to stay long. If you are going to
camp there for some time, dig a pit."

There is no definite age at which a boy must join his first ex-
pedition: "When a boy is old enough, he volunteers." Though
there is no compulsion to participate, the physically fit who wish
to enjoy material benefits can hardly choose another course. Be-
cause of its practical and ceremonial extensions this apprentice-
ship is indispensable to successful warfare, and the man who has

136 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

not undergone it is not cheerfully received by members of a raid-
ing party he seeks to join. "Some do not volunteer. They are
looked down upon. They cannot go on the warpath." Yet the
youth who is unprepared is not goaded into premature participa-
tion. "If a boy thinks he can't stand it, he doesn't go." Nor does
any boy start out ignorant of what he faces : "When a boy wants
to volunteer, his relatives tell him of the hardships and dangers.
If he still wants to go, they let him."

Once a boy has declared his intention of becoming a novice, he
receives advice to guide his conduct during the four expeditions:

The first four times are important because, if a man shows himself to be
unreliable and disobedient these first four times, that will remain his nature
throughout expeditions and battles. The boys are told this, and they try to be at
their best during this time. So they don't cause much trouble.

While you are a novice you have to watch out for your morals. If you are
loose when you come back from one of these expeditions and have a lot of sexual
intercourse, it will be your nature through life. Boys are instructed from the
start about this. These things are impressed on them: "Don't be a coward;
don't be untruthful; don't eat too much when you come back to camp between
raids, or that will be your nature." So during the entire period the boy puts
out his best [effort] and behaves his best.

One informant testified that the necessary information was
imparted to him by his father. Another claimed that "a relative
teaches the boy; a special man is not needed." Yet from still
other accounts it is clear that shamans whose rites center about
the location and frustration of the enemy and the granting of
invulnerability in battle often prepare the youths for these
journeys. Their selection is logical, for "these shamans, the 'bow
shamans,' also make the jackets and other things which protect
a man in battle." Often a number of young men of the same age
are put in the care of one shaman.

All the volunteers are gathered and instructed by the shaman. They are
taught the words and how they should conduct themselves. They are given a
general outline of what they should do. It takes just a few days to learn.

The inexperienced boys who are on the raid for the first time have a certain
kind of hat. And they are the only ones who have the drinking-tube along. The
drinking-tube has a scratching-stick attached to it; that is, on the same cord.
This scratching-stick is about five inches long and is made from the wood of any
tree that bears fruit.

The shaman in charge of the boys makes the hats for them. There is no pay-

MATURATION

137

ment for this. It is like an issue14 to the boys that comes automatically. This
comes from a certain kind of shaman who has to do with war. The drinking-tube
is given by the same person and is issued in the same way. The shaman has
prayers to the directions. He throws pollen to the directions as he makes these
things. The tube and the scratcher have a lightning design on. When the boy
comes back, he returns the hat, scratcher, and tube to the shaman. The shaman
can use them again for others.

"One who is a novice is different from the others." The dif-
ference is in the first instance a ritual one: "The older men treat
the novices reverently because these young men are on one of
their first raids and there are restrictions upon them." Like the
pubescent girl, the novice is identified with a supernatural. "On
the raid and warpath the men call the novice Child of the
Water." Sacred aspects are further emphasized by behavior and
food restrictions :

The novice, when he first gets the tube and scratcher and goes out with the
others, cannot turn around quickly and look behind him. He must glance over
his shoulder first. And in facing the other way he has to turn toward the sun
first, the way they throw pollen. Bad luck would come to the party if this was
not done.

If the boy does not use the scratcher, his skin will be soft; the flesh will be no
good. He has to use the tube for all drinking. It is a rule that is put upon the
boy. If he does not use the scratcher and tube, his whiskers will grow fast.

There is also a very strict rule against a novice having sexual intercourse
while he is out.

Another thing: he must use the words that have been taught him. If he dis-
obeys in this, he will be very unlucky.

Novices are not allowed to eat warm food, but must eat it cold. If they have
to cook the food, they must let it get cold before they eat it. If the novice eats
warm food, horses will not be worth anything to him. He is not allowed to eat
entrails either. If he eats entrails, he will not have good luck with horses. Meat
from the head of an animal is forbidden to him also.

To these rules various informants have added others. The
novice should not gaze upward when he is on the raid or a heavy
rain will come. He is not supposed to laugh at anyone, no matter
how amusing the situation. He must speak respectfully to all the
men and must not talk freely or obscenely about women. He
must stay awake until he is given permission to lie down; to go to

14 The Chiricahua refer to rations and goods distributed by reservation
officials and the military as "issues."

138 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

sleep before the others would show indolence and would cause all
the members of the party to be drowsy. The novice is cautioned
against eating heartily lest he become gluttonous, and he is for-
bidden to eat choice parts of the meat or anything from the in-
side of the animal. When captured stock is killed on the return
journey, the tough neck part is set aside for him. Also the ban
against anything from the inside of an animal is then relaxed,
and novices may be fed lung so that the stock will not become
exhausted before the party reaches home.

Although his conduct is so important for the success of the
expedition, the novice is obliged to gain his practical experience
in a subordinate capacity:

They take the novices four times for the rough work but won't let them fight.
It is to toughen them, they say.

The novices have to get the water and wood and do the heavy work around
the camp when the men stop for the night. The men order them around pretty
much. They must get up early in the morning and build the fire and care for the
horses if there are any along. They are told, "Go over there and get those
horses," and they have to go pretty fast. They have to do the cooking and make
beds for the men. Sometimes they carry provisions for the men too. The men
make these boys stay up on guard. They are the only ones who do guard duty.

'The words which the boy learns and which he is instructed to
use during his first four raiding journeys constitute a vocabulary
of circumlocutory elements which replace ordinary forms of
speech : "They had ceremonial words. Just the novice used them
and only while he was out on the raid. The old men taught them
these words and said, 'This is the novice's talk/ " In the raid or
war vocabulary the term for heart becomes "that by means of
which I live"; the customary word for pollen is replaced by a
form which can be translated "that which is becoming life"; the
owl is referred to as "he who wanders about at night," etc.
Approximately eighty forms belonging to this special vocabulary
have been collected. It is probable that the vocabulary was
never a great deal more extensive, for the novice continues to
designate most objects in the usual manner.15

*s For a full analysis of the vocabulary see Opler and Hoijer, "The Raid and
War-Path Language of the Chiricahua Apache," American Anthropologist, Octo-
ber-December, 1940.

MATURATION 139

Although the novices are expected to share the hardships of
the journey, they are guarded from actual physical danger. The
loss of a novice reflects upon the leadership of the raid, for the
youth is under the protection of ritual and is present primarily
for experience.

But raiding in enemy country is hazardous work at best, and
sometimes the raiders, when they go forward on a particularly
dangerous mission, must leave the novice at a distance so that he
will not be drawn into battle. Then, if they encounter difficulties
or superior forces, they may be unable to reach him again.
Novices deserted in this way have perished or have suffered
great hardship before reaching their homes.

Not all boys who begin this apprenticeship pass through it
successfully. "If a boy is unreliable and doesn't show improve-
ment, they don't take him out any more. They just drop him."

No special raiding parties are organized for the convenience of
the novice. "The boys are taken on when there is trouble and
many raids take place; then they get through in a hurry." De-
pending upon the needs of the encampments and the state of
intertribal relations, as much as a year may elapse between the
first and the fourth journeys.

Unless there is sharp criticism of the young man's conduct on
the last journey, when he returns home he belongs to the ranks of
the men. Of him it is said, "He has just moved up to adult-
hood": "It means that he has arrived at the point where he is a
real man. He doesn't have to stay at home. He is free to do
what he will and to have his own views. He can smoke now, and
he can marry."

When the next raid or war party is announced, this new adult
may participate in the war dance and commit himself to the
undertaking on a different basis: "The fifth time the restrictions
are off; there are no obligations to rule the young men. After the
first four trips, after the apprenticeship, these youths are put first
in battle to try them out. The fifth time out they are expected to
be in the front ranks."

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS

RELATIONS BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN

AN IMPORTANT element in the character of courtship

J \ and in the nature of premarital relations is a generalized

,/. \ negative set toward the easy display of emotion. The

kiss, for instance, is considered too personal and expressive a

gesture for adult or public use.

The mother and father kiss the children when they are playing with them and
have them on their laps. But those who are grown up a little wouldn't kiss in
anyone else's presence. When Chiricahua have not seen each other for a long
time, they embrace. If you love someone, you embrace him and you say, "I'm
glad to see you again." The women do the same thing, but they love one another
so much they often sit down and cry. Maybe the last time they met one had a
brother who is now dead, or something like that. A man might embrace his wife
when he comes back from a long journey.

There is a feeling of inhibition in regard to intimate matters
even between members of the same sex:

A grown person does not like to defecate or urinate before anyone else. If two
men or two women are together, one will say, "I am going out." But if polite
form of speech is used between these two, nothing will be said. The person just
leaves. And a man would not make any explanation to a woman either.

Women do not want to be seen naked by other women any more than do men

by men. Adults are reserved in these matters before one another When a

boy grew to manhood, he would not swim naked any more, not even before other
men. The Chiricahua is very much ashamed about this. A grown man considers
it a disgrace if another adult sees his privates. When a grown man goes in swim-
ming, he always wears a loincloth or something. I have seen older men in swim-
ming, but never naked.

Great dignity should be observed in speech:

I don't know the names of all the parts of a woman's genitals. Men don't
usually talk about a woman's parts. If I talk like this, someone will say, "You're
no man at all!" When X. [an aberrant in respect to sexually pointed speech
whose case is considered below] talks, I don't know whether he means something
on top or way in.

1 40

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS i4i

The reluctance to discuss intimate matters becomes intensi-
fied between individuals of opposite sex:

It is part of Chiricahua nature to be shy about such personal matters. It is
almost impossible to talk to a Chiricahua girl about such things. Before I mar-
ried my wife I never mentioned things of this nature [sexual] to her. Even after
her father gave consent to the marriage we said nothing about it until we were

living together. That is the old Chiricahua attitude She belonged to the

old school. I never kissed her or hugged her. We didn't even hold hands.

To give point to their ideal of restraint between the sexes, in-
formants have repeatedly compared their own customs with
those of other peoples whom they have lately come to know:

The young men I went around with attended the Comanche dances. The
Comanche were the only ones that had any tribal life and dances still going. We
really went to meet the Comanche girls, because they were the ones we had inter-
course with.

You couldn't do much with the Chiricahua girls. If you began talking to
them about such things, they just got mad and walked away. With the Co-
manche girls it was different, and we had no trouble at all. The Comanche men
did not seem to resent the fact that we went around with the Comanche girls. It
seems like a difference in attitude. I don't think it is because the Comanche were
more degenerate or had had more contact with whites, because, as a matter of
fact, I think the Apache had had more contact and more trouble with the whites
and were more disorganized. It seems to me that it was a difference in attitude
in treating the whole question

Modesty and delicacy are ideals which some individuals fail to
attain:

He is just a man with a dirty mouth. He's been this way ever since I have
known him. Because he is always talking about these things some of the Indians
call him "He Who Knows about It"; or they call him "Vulva," because he's
always talking about that. You can't be with him for five minutes before he will
start talking like this. I'll bet if we went right up now and asked him to tell
something about the old times, he'd find some excuse for talking like this.

He goes right in to a place where he knows there are people who are ashamed
before each other, and just the same he will say something so bad that all these
people will have to leave. When the others who are there scold him about it, he
says, "Well, I told nothing but the truth, didn't I?"

One time we were having a big council. He was sitting with the men, and his
wife was over there sitting on the side of the hill with some other women. After a
while she took her moccasins off. He noticed this. "Hey!" he called to her,
"what are you doing?" "Oh, I've just taken my moccasins off," she said. "Well,

i42 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

you'd better put them on again," he told her, "or some of these men here will see
your bare feet and get excited and go for you." His wife only laughed. She's
used to that kind of talk. She's much younger than he is. She sticks to him be-
cause he's good support, I guess.

A second offender, a woman, was also adversely discussed:

That woman is a regular bulldog. She has a dirty mouth. She is awful, that
woman! Everybody knows her. She will knock her husband about twenty feet,
kick him, and call him dirty names. He doesn't do anything or say anything.
He is very mild and doesn't stick up for himself. If you curse him, he will just
laugh. Some do not like this about him.

One time my wife and I were visiting. There were about fifteen people pres-
ent. This couple was there. My wife noticed earlier in the day that the woman
was angry. When she saw her come in, she told me to go, because she knew that
the woman would use all sorts of bad language. So I got out pretty quick. Later
I asked my wife what the woman had done. She had backed her husband against
the wall and given him an awful talking to right before all the people. She men-
tioned how big his privates were and everything.

Yet, despite these cases, the avowed canons of good taste gen-
erally prevail.

Concepts of courtship and sexual behavior are influenced by a
manly ideal which slightly subordinates women and penalizes
men for any open attention to them:

The Chiricahua men and women regard each other differently from the way
the white people do. A man has a more honorary position than a woman. It
looks to me as if the women try to serve the men and expect to do so. They show
the men a little extra respect. That is why they let the men walk down the road
ahead of them.

At a feast, such as a marriage feast, there is a special place for the men. The
food is taken out and served to the men first. But there is no special place for the
women. The women crowd around and eat what they can get and sit anywhere
they can. But the women expect this. They do not think they are abused be-
cause of it. They would resent any other kind of treatment. If visitors come,
they are served first, but the men visitors are served first of all. It looks as if men
do not like to be thought of as coming under the influence of women.

We Chiricahua say, "Look at those white men! They go with their wives all
the time. It looks as if they never get tired of them." We brag of the way we
do, for we don't like to take our wives along. We have a better time when we are
alone. Some of the fellows get together and talk and have fun for hours. We
don't have such a good time if the women are around. The men might go to a
social dance with their wives, but as soon as they get to the place they leave their
wives and go with the men.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 143

Courtship, elopement, and ideals of beauty. — Only shortsighted
parents fail to plan and guide their daughter's future properly,
for, with matrilocal residence in force, an undisciplined daughter
or an improvident son-in-law may well be their ruin as they
grow older and more dependent on the younger workers. Parents
and close relatives owe a girl affection, the necessities of life, pro-
tection from natural and supernatural enemies, and proper
training during her formative years. In return they expect grati-
tude from her for the sacrifices they have made, obedience, and
stable conduct.

Unmarried girls are carefully guarded by their relatives:

They are pretty strict with girls after the puberty ceremony and before mar-
riage. The girls are made to cook and sew. The mother, father, or brother at-
tends them to or from a dance. Unmarried women, if young, are not allowed at a
tiswin party.

In the words of another informant:

The girl was watched carefully by her folks. Because of this it was necessary
to have someone approach the parents and speak for you if you wanted to marry
a girl. It was almost impossible to court a girl. Men had to do it on the sly.

From this statement we see the strategic advantage to the
parents of premarital control over their daughters. It brings
suitors or their representatives directly to them, allowing them
to choose their sons-in-law and to fix the terms of the agreement.

The same degree of supervision is not exercised over the son:

They are very strict with the girls. The girls are given general information by
parents and relatives. The girls have attendants when they go to dances and
they are watched in the home too. The parents are not so strict with the boys.
The boys are given more freedom.

The absence of any approved period of courtship is emphasized
in the account of a father who advised his daughter "not to go
around with any man until she was married." An able informant
summed up the matter by saying: "There is not much courtship.
Marriage is usually arranged. The young people do not have
much to say about it. The boy has the best of it. If he sees a
girl he likes, he will go to his father and tell him."

Though no period of open courtship is institutionalized, there
are ways for young people who are attracted to each other to meet :

i44 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

In the old days it was considered shameful to go openly with a girl. If a man
liked a girl, he would try to put himself in her way as much as possible without
attracting notice. He would try to get to every social dance that she went to.
That was the Chiricahua substitute for taking a girl out. It gave the young peo-
ple a chance to meet. It gave the girl a chance to show whom she liked. If a girl
chose the same man -for a partner many times, you could be sure that that couple
might get married. If a boy liked a girl and she showed him attention in this
way, he might go to his father or his uncle or some other close relative and ask if
he would try to arrange a marriage. Sometimes the boy would be turned down
and sometimes not; he never knew.

D. is going through this stage now. He is in love with S.'s daughter He

doesn't do anything. He just goes to the store when he thinks she'll be there.
He gets in a word or two. Then he goes one way and she goes another. He'll be
watching every few minutes from the other side of the canyon. Pretty soon
she'll come for water. He will be watching and will come to the place by a
roundabout way, timing it to get there while she's there. Then he'll get in a
couple of more words. Later she'll find some excuse to go off somewhere where
he is, and so on.

Many understandings are reached following a military tri-
umph. This is the time when spirits are high and when young
men have won a stake which permits them to join the ranks of
the suitors. "The Chiricahua turned their victories into a cele-
bration, a dancing and marrying time. Lots of young men took
advantage of the occasion."

The etiquette regulating the conduct of the married man and
his wife's relatives makes elopement almost an impossibility.
When it occurs, the affront to the girl's family is so serious that
the offending couple is forced to live in isolation unless forgive-
ness and approval can be secured. "There are few cases of elope-
ment. A girl who is not trained right might elope. Usually the
couple doesn't come back to the girl's folks to live then but makes
a camp apart."

But, even though their parents and relatives have much to say
about the choice of a mate, the young people have their own
standards of beauty and desirability and their own ways of in-
fluencing the issue. Concerning the physical traits in a girl
which excite most admiration, and those which are least well
considered, the following pronouncement is typical:

Girls with big lips, or a big nose, or with skin too dark; who are stooped or
have big feet; who have a Roman nose or one too wide, or who have too long a

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS

'45

face — these are not considered good-looking. A full oval face is liked and me-
dium height, not too tall. We like small hands and feet, but not too thin. A
plump, full body is best. Legs should be in proportion to the rest of the body and
not too thin. Mouth and ears should be in proportion to the rest of the face,
not big.

Premarital sex experiences. — Parents are not always successful
in bringing a daughter to marriage a virgin. Occasional cases of
rape have been reported.

Rape is classed as stealing. Sometimes a man is killed for this. It is more
serious to attack an unmarried than a married woman. If the person who did it
is found out, there is bound to be revenge by a member of the family who have
been wronged. This is individual revenge or revenge backed by a family. It does
not involve all the people.

If the woman is married, the husband has the right to do anything to the one
who mistreated her. The man's relatives may try to smooth it over for him.
Payment is often offered.

The girl, instead of being an innocent victim, may carry on a
clandestine affair. This is known as "night crawling," or, literal-
ly, "he crawls up to someone." One moonless night I was talking
with two men, one young and one old. The young man remarked,
"It's a good time for night crawling." The old man laughed, ex-
plained the meaning of the phrase, and added: "It's something
that used to happen in the old days too. The word was used in
the old times. But to do this was considered a disgraceful thing.
A man would be beaten if he was caught at it. When you do this
to a virgin, they kill your horses if you are caught."

If sexual relations between two young people are discovered,
the girl's family has suffered an economic loss. Should the young
man not be considered eligible by the parents, their anger is par-
ticularly aroused, for they have probably lost a chance to marry
their daughter worthily and yet cannot force a suitable match
from the intrigue. In this case "the parents of the girl have the
right to handle the boy. They won't demand payment. They
demand punishment, physical punishment." "When a girl goes
wrong, it is considered very serious. It is up to the girl's parents.
The man might be killed. Usually the couple is made to marry."
As the last sentence indicates, the average family is likely to
take the philosophical view:

146 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

They don't like it if there is sexual activity before marriage. If there is a child
as a result of this, they make them marry. This kind of marriage is the same as
any other kind. Polite terms are used between the in-laws, and presents are
given to the father-in-law. They usually marry after the child is born, for a girl
conceals her condition as long as she can.

In another account the possibility of flight to avoid the wrath
of the family is mentioned, and there is a hint of retribution even
in the case of a forced marriage:

Sometimes she went to another band to escape punishment. Nothing was
done in the other band. Sometimes the boy and girl were forced to marry.
When a girl of good family got into trouble, the two families talked it over, and
they were married. But the man had to pay a horse because he had gone with
the girl on the sly. The horse pardons the case.

Often pressure for honorable marriage comes from the rela-
tives of the boy as well as those of the girl, for they are conscious
of the wrong their kinsman has committed and are eager to
avoid difficulties between the two families.

One night I was caught by another fellow lying with this girl. The next night
several more caught me. The news spread. The relatives of the girl found it out,
came to me, and asked me if it was true.

One of them said, "You've been going with my relative. You've been doing
this all the time. Why aren't you a man and tell me you want to marry her
instead of keeping her outside nights where it's cold and things might hap-
pen?"

My father, sisters, and brother knew nothing of this. I was sneaking. The
girl's relatives told my parents, and my father told me that I should marry her.
He said that I should let him tell the girl's relatives of my intentions so that they
wouldn't feel bitter against me.

Her brothers and her mother, too, found out. They said to the girl, "You've
been fooling around with this man. You'd better get married or else there will be
talk against you." I really wanted to marry her and she wanted to marry me. I
was just young and didn't have sense enough to do it right.

Of course, many assignations go undiscovered. The young
people are capable of clever devices against prying elders. One
girl, for instance, took advantage of the close family bonds and
contrived to have a sleeping-place at home and another at her
grandmother's. When she did not return to one of these beds, it
was assumed that she was in the other. Often she was in neither
place but in the encampment of her lover, a young widower.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS

HI

Sometimes these affairs become a testing-ground for love and

result in stable union. Such a case is the one cited below, where

social dancing acted as a shield for a sexual adventure. The

individuals involved have been happily married for many years

now:

When I danced with her, I'd say, "What are we fooling around here for? We
could be by ourselves." The next time she'd pull my sleeve, and we'd dance a
little. Then I'd say, "Let's go." I'd go one way, and she'd go the other. We'd
meet at a certain place.

Many problems arise when premarital sex relations result in
pregnancy, especially if the man involved flees, denies responsi-
bility, or is considered undesirable. The girl's kinsmen can no
longer demand generous marriage gifts and will be relieved to
find a man who will agree to support another's child. If a hus-
band cannot be found for the girl prior to the birth of her baby,
the public nature of the scandal and the necessity of provision
for the child raise further issues. Therefore, resort is sometimes
made to abortion, and illegitimate children are occasionally
abandoned or destroyed at birth.

Herbalists give decoctions said to promote abortion. "There
is a medicine used. You have to hire someone who knows how to
make and use it." Mechanical means are also attempted:

They try to bring about abortion by pressing themselves over a sharp stick or
stump, or by getting someone to press the stomach in a certain way. It was prac-
ticed in the old days, and it is practiced now. News of it always leaks out,
though it is practiced in secret.

To perform abortion they press and massage the stomach. The girl shouldn't
have anything to eat for several days.

Of the fate of an unwanted illegitimate child the following
suspicion was voiced: "A certain man's daughter was in trouble
a while back. She's just a young girl. They say her baby was
born dead, but I think she killed it, or her relatives killed it in
some way."

When illegitimate children are not disposed of, however, they
are treated kindly. "Illegitimate children are often kept, and
such a child is not discriminated against. It lessens a woman's

148 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

chance for a good marriage if she has an illegitimate child, how-
ever." Illegitimacy may even be a spur to achievement:

An illegitimate child, when he realizes that he has no father, tries to make
good in other ways, by bravery perhaps. There was a man in my group who was
illegitimate but who rose to be a leader in war. He was recognized as a brave and
good man and was. respected. A man can rise from an illegitimate childhood po-
sition to wealth or even chieftainship if he has powerful friends.

Theories of conception. — Any discussion of illegitimacy raises
the question of theories of conception, for the term for "bastard,"
literally, "child of many," is the verbal symbol of far-reaching
notions.

Ideas of fetal development begin much like modern scientific
dicta:

We believe that life is connected with a woman's egg. I've never heard them
talk much about what there is there first from which the child develops. Every-
thing has to start from eggs, I guess. Turtles and birds do.

Likewise the male seminal fluid is seen as a fertilizing agent. But
here the parallel ceases:

I have heard the old men speak about it [i.e., semen] and say that it comes out
of very rich blood. It is the very best, the richest blood. It is stored up in the
testicles. Then it affects the feeling of all the nerves [creates desire] and it is the
belief that it brings birth. It affects both men and women.

The Chiricahua believe that there is in the woman a pouch with her blood in
it. When the man has intercourse with a woman, some of his blood [semen]
enters her. But just a little goes in the first time, and not as much as the woman
has in there. The child does not begin to develop yet, because the woman's blood
struggles against it. The woman's blood is against having the child; the man's
blood is for it. When enough collects, the man's blood forces the baby to come.

A logical extension of the "blood accumulation" theory is the
belief that impregnation cannot occur as a result of a single sex-
ual contact. Said a spokesman in reference to his first sexual
experience:

One night when I was out with her, we got pretty excited. I handled her quite

a lot. She resisted a little but not too much, and finally she let me do it

After we finished, I felt pretty ashamed. I took that girl back. I avoided her for
quite a time. Later on I got over it and didn't avoid her, but I never took her
out again or did anything to her.

I wasn't afraid that I had got her in trouble. I had only had intercourse with
her once. Nothing can come of that. You have to do it with a girl twenty or

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 149

even forty times to have a baby. There are cases where a baby has come sooner,
but they are very rare. I believe this today. It is a general Chiricahua belief. I
have seen it work out too many times to doubt it.

Acceptance of this idea reduces the fear of the consequences
of an isolated sexual experience, but it dooms the unmarried
mother to the stigma of having been repeatedly unchaste. The
girl who claims that she is with child as the result of but one mis-
step is simply not believed.

In another account the blood accumulation theory is worked
out more precisely:

You have to have intercourse with a girl more than once to get a baby started.
If you do it about three times a week, you will have a baby started in about two
or three months. But it depends on the man and woman and on how much they
do it. I know of a girl who had intercourse with a man many times in one night.
If a girl did it at that rate, it wouldn't take any time at all to get a child started.

This theory of conception does not demand that the necessary
semen be that of one man:

If a woman has intercourse with more than one man over a period of time, the
child that comes will belong to both of them; each man contributes something to
its physical makeup. The child will belong mostly to the man who has had most
intercourse with the woman. If a woman has intercourse with many men and a
child is born, the men say that each one has some small part in the child. Of a
child of a loose woman one often hears a man say, "I have an elbow in there," or,
"I have a foot in there."

It is believed that many men can be the father of one child. If a woman goes
with several men, it is said that the child belongs to all of them. That is why an
illegitimate child is so good-looking. He has the good points of all the men. And
that is why the word for illegitimate child means "child of many." It can have
parts from more than one man.

It is obvious from the last two excerpts that there exists a
well-defined concept of heredity, based upon the continuity of
the "blood" and its properties. This was made more explicit by a
commentator who declared : "Children look like their parents.
My oldest daughter looks like my mother, the old men tell me.
My youngest daughter looks like her mother." This view is also
expressed in joking. Thus, a young man was told by his friends
that his big ears strangely resembled those of an illegitimate
child whose parentage had not been fully accounted for.

150 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Not long ago the idea that a child may have more than one
father was introduced in a legal dispute. A man had been prac-
ticing polygyny with two sisters. Since plural marriages are
banned by white edict, only one of these women could be regis-
tered as his lawful wife. When the other became pregnant, the
problem arose of how to answer the queries of the agency of-
ficials. Finally, the woman blamed another young man for her
condition, and, since he admitted having had intercourse with
her three times, it seemed that he would be punished and be
forced to support the baby. It was here that native doctrine was
invoked. A legally minded brother of the accused man proved to
the superintendent that the "secret husband" had been having
relations with this woman and asserted that the child belonged
"more to that man than to anyone else." It is doubtful that the
superintendent understood the latter statement, but he was
enough impressed by the testimony concerning the woman's
irregular conduct to reduce the threatened punishment.

With the theory of blood accumulation goes a concept of
blood exchange. The primary result of sexual intercourse is to
add male blood to the store of female blood. The condition of the
generative blood of the man is modified by his age and the state
of his health. The blood accumulated within a woman has two
special characteristics in addition. First, it is associated some-
how with the menstruum. Menstrual blood is most dangerous to
men; contact with it brings, at the least, rheumatic joints.
Therefore, men fear it and avoid intercourse with menstruating
women. Second, a woman's blood is in a special category be-
cause, if she is promiscuous, her augmented supply represents
the contributions of many men of dubious soundness.

This fully explains the warning to young men against tamper-
ing with older women of bad reputation. Evidently, it is sus-
pected that during intercourse the man's genitals may come in
contact with the woman's blood and that any disease which it
carries can be thus transmitted to him. Tuberculosis, for in-
stance, has been considered communicable in this way:

In the time before my day and my father's day, the Chiricahua didn't know
what tuberculosis was. They knew that sometimes a man's stomach got bad and

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 151

he coughed up nasty yellow stuff that tasted bad. They said this came from
smoking too much. The yellow in the tobacco just got in the stomach, and more
and more accumulated until a person could spit it out. Sometimes a person got
pretty bad and began to spit blood — have what you call hemorrhage now, I
guess.

The Chiricahua thought you could catch this from someone who had it, and
that you got it from having intercourse with someone who had it. So a man
would be ashamed to admit that he was spitting blood or yellow pus for fear that
someone would say he had had intercourse with a woman who had this.

The Chiricahua had remedies for this. Some used "narrow medicine" [Perezia
wrightii] for tuberculosis.1 But lots of them were ashamed and waited until it was
too late to save them.

Love ceremonies . — Love ceremonies are carried on by some
men and women for their own purposes or, upon request and
payment, for others who seek them out. Though this type
of ritual is not equated with witchcraft, "charmers" are sel-
dom talkative about their art. The danger in wielding a love
ceremony is that the person who is to be influenced may detect
and resist the onslaught. "Often a love ceremony that fails or is
improperly performed makes a person crazy. There is a cere-
mony to cure the effects of the love craziness."

Certain objects and motifs occur time and again in love cere-
monies. The four-holed flageolet, made of carrizo, is one of these :

There were very few who played the flute. I've seen flutes played, but the
Chiricahua didn't pay much attention to them. The flute must have come from
the Western Apache. They use it a great deal. The Chiricahua feel that, when
anyone is playing on the flute like that, it's not a good thing. It is connected
with love magic, and they don't like it. Only people with love ceremonies use it,
it seems.

Many charges concerning the possession of love power are un-
doubtedly inspired by rivalry and jealousy. Exceptional success
in gaining the attentions of the other sex, or polygyny involving
a man of but ordinary means, may lead to the same suspicion:

The hummingbird is ceremonially used. I think some use it in love ceremonies
and to influence girls just as they use the butterfly. R., they say, knows this

1 Tuberculosis can also be caused by worms. In a trickster tale, Coyote, wish-
ing to deceive his family, tells them he has lung trouble and that they should
leave him for dead if worms drop to the ground from his bed. That the "worms"
may really drop, he takes spoiled meat to bed with him.

152 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

ceremony. He got a young woman with it. Everybody knows he influenced her.
She chased him all around, day and night, when she was a young girl. He's much
older than she is. That girl was very pretty and he was ugly. They think he used
butterflies. They say that he has been helping some other people with his power
too. I've heard young fellows talking about it.

And they talk about another man that way too. It shows. He has two wi.ves,
one in secret. He's not good-looking; he hasn't anything. That's how you know.
Some suspected N. of having love power because he had two wives. Some even
suspect C. They say he's got a pretty fair-looking wife and doesn't do anything.
They say anything about you these days.

They think that the time to perform this ceremony is in spring or midsummer
when the butterfly is out. Then it works easier.

In an expansive mood, one man revealed that in his younger
days he was "so lucky with the girls that many said it was love
power." He added, however, "I swear that I never had one little
bit of this power."

But there are practitioners who do carry on such ceremonies:

There are people who can make others love you. Their work is not considered
a disgrace like that of a witch. If you are a man, you go to one of them and say
that you want a certain woman. You must pay these people.

In the ceremony they use the sun, the butterfly, and water. When they want
to influence you, they splash water on you with the hand. Sometimes they have
something shiny to flash in your eyes. Sometimes they take a piece of your
clothing or your hair — something of yours is needed to work with. They sing to
the sun. They think that the sun can stretch a net like a spider's net and catch
a person in it.

I had a friend, an old man, who used to boast to me that he had such power.
He married a young girl. I asked, "How did you get your wife?" He said, "I
used power." I believed him because it looked queer to me. He was not good-
looking either. He said that when he prayed to a girl he made her put on the
nature of a butterfly. She would then fly here and there, take no responsibility,
and have no worry about the future, and so you could make love to her.

The use of water is especially interesting, for the term meaning
love power, while it does not yield to linguistic analysis in en-
tirety, is evidently related to the word for water.

Concerning the reality of a love ceremony another informant
said:

There was a man at Whitetail who knew the ceremony pretty well. He died

about 1919 The old man, if I liked a girl, could be hired to get her for me.

He would sing over the girl for me, and when he finished, the girl would come
right in and sit down. Then she would love me forever and never leave me.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 153

Women, as well as men, claim to control this power:

T.'s wife has this ceremony. Once when she was full of tiswin she promised to
show me what she knew about it. She sang one of the butterfly songs for me. I
couldn't get on to it, for I heard it only once. In the morning when she was sober
she changed her mind and wouldn't show me any more. In these ceremonies the
caterpillar and rope are used with the butterfly. If the butterfly is put in your
bed during such a ceremony, you're a "goner"; you are "charmed."

Another ramification of love power is its relation to deer
ceremonies:

The man who knows the ceremony of the deer is good at love medicine, they
say. He gets any young girl. He will always be poor though. He never has
anything but his loincloth, but the girl loves him just the same.

If a person is under the influence of the love ceremony and eats meat from a
deer's head, it will cause his own head to swell up.

The main outlines of the love ceremony are now clear. The
desired one, lured by flageolet music, is to become as aimless and
irresponsible as the butterfly and is to be enmeshed in a net of
"ropes" of the sun (sunbeams, sometimes symbolized by pieces
of cord). Contact with the person to be influenced is important.
Water may be playfully splashed upon him; a beam of light may
be directed toward him from some shiny object (another form of
the sun motif) ; a sticky leaf may be flicked at him; a butterfly or
a caterpillar may be dropped in his bed; a piece of his clothing or
a strand of his hair may be secured.

The emphasis of the ceremony is upon disarming any contrary
will and securing fast the one desired. This explains the seeming
intrusion of deer power. The deer ceremony has broadly similar
objectives — to induce the animal to be tractable and to hold it in
a place from which it may easily be taken. By substituting an
object of affection for the game animal, the deer ceremony be-
comes quite as effective for another purpose. But here a choice
must be made. One who decides to use his deer ceremony for
love rather than for sustenance will remain poor in material
things.

154 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

MARRIAGE ARRANGEMENTS, MARRIAGE, AND RESIDENCE

Most marriages are arranged in terms of a conventional
pattern in which the wishes of the families involved carry much
weight. The early completion of the girl's training, the need of
the encampment for additional young men, and the disapproval
of premarital sex experience for women are all factors contribut-
ing to the tendency for girls to marry young. Therefore, "the
girl is allowed to marry by Chiricahua rule after her ceremony,
after her first menstruation."2

At the time of puberty the girl is given the advice necessary
to guide her actions in caring for herself at the time of menstrua-
tion and in regulating her relations with men:

They tell the girls how to keep clean during menstruation. There are no re-
strictions on a woman at this time; she can eat any food and she can go around.
But the girls are told to wear their old clothes during menstruation and that they
must not leave them around. They are shown how to wear something like a loin-
cloth with a pad at this time. The girls are also reminded of the effect of men-
strual blood on men. They are told that it makes men paralyzed and deformed,
unable to straighten their arms or legs. The girls are also told that they can ride
mares but not male horses during menstruation.

And they tell a girl that she must stay pure until her marriage, that virginity
is expected of a woman who has not been married before. They tell her that a
man might leave a woman who is not a virgin, that the maidenhead is the sign of
virginity, and if a woman is not proved a virgin by this means at marriage, a man
would get angry and the marriage would be broken up.

The young man cannot look forward to so early a marriage,
for he must first prove his ability to provide for and defend a
family by participating in the four raiding parties.

Marriage is considered less a romantic venture than a solid
economic arrangement, though personal and individual values
are by no means totally eliminated:

Many of the old people think of marriage from the economic side. They ad-
vise a man to marry and have a home because they figure that the man will then
be serious, will provide for his family, and get ahead. On the other hand, you
can't disregard physical love either. Whether or not the old people think of this,
the young ones do. I often hear people remarking that some boy has married just
for love and wasn't sensible enough to take a girl who was a good worker and

3 Some informants deny this and even complain that "the girls marry too
young today," but the evidence of former early marriage is conclusive.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 155

could provide a real home for him. Often they talk of foolish young people who
don't think of practical things when they marry.

Sometimes the parents of the boy and girl arrange the match and only tell the
principals when all arrangements are made. If a man is industrious, he has more
chance to get a match, and the same is true for the girls. Some very ugly Indian
men have gotten beautiful girls, not because the girls wanted them, but because
the parents of the girl recognized their industry and insisted on the marriage.
Old men who are rich sometimes marry very young girls in this way.

Often the prospective husband thoughtfully contemplates

not only the young lady but the affinities to whom he will be so

closely bound if he marries her:

Before marriage a man looks at the parents of the girl, at her industry, sees
how strong and able to bear children she is, how congenial and sweet she is, and
he decides on these grounds. Beauty of face is of little account. Industriousness
is most important probably, but if a woman is mean and cranky a man would
never have her, even if she was a good worker.

As might be expected from the important part that settled

elders play in marriage arrangements, the decisions arrived at

do not always conform to the wishes of the young people:

In one way of arranging it, the children are just matched up by the parents
and relatives when they reach marriageable age. The two families might be
friendly. When they tell the girl, sometimes she may not want to marry the man
chosen for her. Sometimes they appeal to her or otherwise influence her against
her will. As for the boy, maybe he knows the girl, maybe not. Perhaps he has
never spoken to her but has seen her only at a distance.

It's not so easy as we've been making out. Sometimes a girl will run off rather
than marry a man. Some girls are forced into marriage.

Girls are married to men many years older than they are sometimes, because
their parents match them to wealthy persons. And some younger men marry
rich widows. I notice that the older person is inclined to be very jealous in these
cases.

This does not mean that true love matches are unknown, but

such unions receive scant sympathy, especially when they turn

out badly:

F. is a good example of a woman who went crazy over a man and still is that
way. She can take more abuse than any woman I ever saw. Her husband has
never done any work and never will. There's no chance of his making good. But
she married him. Look how he has treated her! But she is wild about him right
now. If it wasn't for her family, she'd be back with him now.

156 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Though the parents and close relatives of young people are
eager to have them confortably married and united to a family
of standing, they are ordinarily willing to listen to any sensible
conjugal plans which their charges may have. "After all, the
final decision is usually left to the young people. They can be
persuaded, but they can't be forced as a general thing. Such
marriages do not last." And the young people, knowing their
stake and place in the marriage arrangements, are not hesitant
about indicating their preferences. The young man may be em-
boldened to ask a girl how seriously concerned about him she is.
He may hint that if she will encourage such a move he will re-
quest his relatives to approach her parents about the matter.
"Often the boy will tell his father or some other relative which
girl he likes. He works through the family. He tells his father
or his uncle to go to the girl's father and ask for her." Mean-
while the girl has revealed her affection for the young man to her
mother or some other close relative and has paved the way for
the reception of a representative of the suitor.

Theoretically, the young man's family is expected to take the
initiative and approach the girl's relatives. In a good many
cases, however, the relatives of a marriageable girl take a far
from passive role:

She was a fine-looking girl. Her mother sent word to me by the girl's step-
father. "Any time you get ready you can marry my girl," she said. My inten-
tion was not to do it, but I gave no answer one way or another. A second time she
sent word to me by the same man, saying, "I'll give you this girl. Why don't you
say something about it?" My friend, a relative of the girl, said, "Why don't you
marry that girl? Then we'll be together all the time."

They moved camp close to me. I was called over there by the stepfather.
They had something to drink. They all got to feeling good. Then the mother
asked me for the third time. She pointed to me and said, "You, I want you for
my son-in-law. I want you to have my daughter."

I had never known the girl. She was good-looking and a good worker. But I
didn't know whether she cared for me or would love me all of her life. I couldn't
go just by what her mother said. I was drunk and not bashful. I told the old
lady right to her face, "I have never at any time spoken to your daughter. I
don't know whether she would care for me. By forcing her this way I don't think
we'd have a home together very long. I'd rather get acquainted with a girl. I
don't care what kind of looking girl she is as long as she gets on well with me."

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 157

The old lady answered me, "I'm the one who raised her. She's going to marry
the man I want her to or she won't marry. You're the only man I want to have
for my son-in-law." So the girl didn't have any chance to choose her own hus-
band.

In another account the first move leading to the marriage of
the narrator was taken by the grandmother of a girl whose
parents were dead:

I went to her place that night. I had heard that the old lady had some tiswin.
When I got there she told me to have a drink. As we talked she told me that I
was single and needed a wife. She mentioned this girl and said it was worth two
horses to get her. I had never seen the girl before. When I got home I started to
think about it seriously. I talked it over with my relatives. An uncle of mine
gave me a mule, and a cousin gave me a horse.

The next day I went to the home of a certain woman, a middle-aged woman.
She was eating when I arrived. I called her outside and hired her to speak for me
to this girl's grandmother. This woman lived just on the other side of a stream
from the girl and her grandmother. The next day my go-between went to the old
woman and asked her to give me the girl. The old woman demanded two good
horses. My go-between thanked the grandmother and came to tell me what had
been said. I gave her the horse and the mule to lead to the old woman, and the
next day I went to the girl.

But regardless of the direction from which the first overture
comes, it is the young man or his representative who must lodge
a formal request with the girl's kin for consent to the union.
Gaining this consent and perfecting the arrangements is a delicate
undertaking, for nothing is more humiliating than a refusal when
matters have gone this far. A suitor who is an older man, who is
without close relatives, or who is independent of them may
plead his own cause. A man may also speak for himself if he is
courting a divorced woman. But making the request is con-
sidered a most unwelcome task, and the matter is usually in-
trusted to a go-between: "There is always someone who goes to
the girl's relatives and tells of a man's good points. This is not a
profession. They find someone who is interested in the boy and
is willing to go to the parents of the girl. It can be a man or
woman who does this."

Occasionally, it is the boy's father who acts in this capacity.
"The boy's father will go to the girl's father and say, T have a

158 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

boy who likes your girl.' He tells what the presents will be." The
degree of formality depends largely on the relations between the
two families. Where a kindly understanding has been established
the boy's father feels least hesitant about assuming the initiative
himself. But more frequently someone other than the parent is
found for this duty:

The father does not always go to the girl's family. Another relative or friend
will go, or the family may hire a man who is somewhat of a public figure and will
know just what to do. The go-between is paid if the marriage goes through. He is
given something valuable, like a buckskin or a horse, because what he has done is
a very unpleasant task to the Chiricahua mind. Something holds a man back
from this. I can't describe it.

A young man may have less trouble gaining the good will of
his future parents-in-law than in finding a suitable spokesman to
act for him:

So I said, "You're my uncle and I plead with you to get me fixed up. It's your
duty." We talked back and forth like this for a few days. I told him it was very
important to me. But he took it easy. He'd just smile and light a cigarette when
I'd ask him. I felt like throwing something at him. After he lit his cigarette he'd
make himself more comfortable. He just gave lots of excuses. He wouldn't do it.

It was bashfulness on his part that held him back. S. (the girl's father) is a
pretty important man and hard to handle, and that held him back. Besides he
didn't know how to talk along this line. You have to be pretty experienced. If
you are refused you have to take it gracefully. You have to know how. There are
lots of things that hold a man back. It's not just going up to a man and saying,
"This boy wants to marry your daughter. What do you say, yes or no?" Some-
times a go-between has to get drunk to get courage up to speak.

The go-between must be prepared to cope with embarrassing
situations such as this:

When D. started to go in there, the mother said, "Here's an old man who
never comes to visit us. What's up?" She thought there was something wrong.
D. said, "I have come over here to speak to you."

"What do you want to speak to us about?"

"I want to speak for your daughter."

Right away the old man, the father, said, "No, nothing doing!"

The old lady told him, "Keep still! You've got nothing to say. We are poor
people, and everybody dislikes you. You need some good man to defend you, to
keep flies off you. If there is any good man coming — I don't know who he is — but
if it's a good man, he will be a big help to me. But you begin talking against him
right away!"

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 159

D. said, "I am going to give you valuable property. That man will give you
horses. But the way you start off is not right."

The old lady asked, "Who is this man?"

He's standing out there. He's my nephew. I love him. He's a good man for
you "

If the go-between is a relative of the suitor and a friend of the
girl's family, he meets opposition by injecting a personal note
that is hard to resist: "Sometimes the go-between would say, 'I
want your daughter to marry this boy. He is my relative. From
now on we will live as relatives.' "

It is an advantage "to get an influential person to talk for
you." While the go-between is simply an agent, he takes his task
seriously and believes his success is a measure of his persuasive-
ness. Should he be ungraciously received, he is likely to feel
personal resentment. Consequently, it is more difficult for the
average family to return a negative reply to a "public figure"
than to an ordinary man. Forceful conversationalists are like-
wise in demand for this office. Sometimes a person gains a repu-
tation in this field and may be asked to perform this service a
number of times, but it is denied that there are any "professional
go-betweens." Even affinal relatives may act for a young man:
"I talked to my sister-in-law about a wife. I told her to ask a
certain person for a wife for me. It took a long time."

A humorous story, illustrating the kind of temperament emi-
nently suited for the task, is told of a man who has acted as go-
between by request on a number of occasions and at least once
without specific instructions:

J. got married through L. L. was always the life of the party. He was witty
and loud spoken. He was a widower and J. was living with him. He was related
to J. in some way. J. had been going with E.'s daughter for a long time. He in-
tended to marry her anyway, but he had not done anything yet about it. Then
L. was invited to a tiswin party at E.'s place. He got feeling good. J. and the girl
were not there. While he was feeling good he got talking with Mrs. E. He said,
"Now how about letting my relative marry your daughter?" Mrs. E, said,
"That's fine!"

The next day L. woke up. He was the way people are after a party. "Oh, J.,"
he said, "now you are in for it!"

"What's the matter with you? You must feel pretty bad after that party,"
J. said.

160 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

"Well, J.," L. said, "you've been going around with that girl and now I guess
you can go with her for the rest of your life. Yesterday I acted as a go-between
for you and fixed it up for you to marry her. So we'll have to clean you up, and
you'll have to leave me and set up your own home."

J. couldn't believe it was true, but the man had done it. And Mrs. E. had
taken it seriously. But J. was glad anyway. He married the girl shortly after
that. I sure joke with J.'s wife about this! I tell her that if L. hadn't got drunk,
she never would have been married.

Usually the go-between leaves the young man behind to await
the outcome of the negotiations and performs his work without
the suitor's co-operation :

I went to K. He agreed to do it. I was to stay at his place and wait for him
while he went out and talked to her father. He promised that he would hurry
back as soon as he could. He was all dressed up in his best clothes.

I was pretty nervous while he was gone. I thought of the possibility that I
would be turned down. I made up my mind that if I was turned down I would
get out of that place just as fast and as quietly as possible.

By and by I saw K. coming. He was taking his time instead of hurrying.
"Well! What did he say?" I asked him. "Prepare yourself for bad news," he told
me. But I could see he was joking. He fooled around with me for a few minutes
before he told me everything was all right. He told me then that the girl's father
had agreed right away.

But when there is some uncertainty about gaining consent and
the young man's personal assurances of good faith may be re-
quired in order to secure a favorable reply, the suitor accom-
panies the go-between and remains near by. Whenever possible
the actual face-to-face encounter of a man and his potential
parents-in-law is avoided, because, should consent be given, he
finds himself standing in the presence of those whom he should
not see.

When I went with D., who acted as go-between for me, I stopped at the door.
I was not going in there. I would have a better chance if I stayed outside. D.
told me, "Stay outside so that you will have more chance; for if you marry this
girl, you will have to hide from her mother." J. [a rejected suitor for the hand of
the same girl] had come right in with his go-between and made a fool of himself.

I stayed near by so that if they should say, "Well, let's hear from this man,"
I'd be there and could speak from where I was. I couldn't run right in there and
show no respect. So I was standing near the door.

On request, however, the young man has to appear before the
kin group of the girl he hopes to marry:

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 161

Suppose I want to marry a certain girl. A relative of mine goes over to her
folks and speaks to them about it. They might say, "Send that boy over here."

I go over there. They tell me to sit outside, perhaps, and they talk to me from
the inside of their camp. Or they might tell me to come in. I go in. They ask me
what I intend to do. I give them a good talk, telling them that I will work for
them, stay with them, bring in something to each one of them, and give so many
horses to them too. Then, if they agree, one of the old ladies, a relative of the
girl I am going to marry, may put a blanket over her head and walk out, saying,
"I'm going to hide from this man." The father and mother do that too. They
have to [i.e., practice avoidance]. There is no choice for them. The close relatives
of my wife are all there and show what they intend to do. Those who are not
there send word to me about hiding or speaking polite. Then I act that way to-
ward them.

The presentation of gifts is a convention that is seldom vio-
lated. "A man must give a present to his wife's relatives or be
disgraced; the woman is disgraced too if this is not done." It is
expected that a chaste and dutiful girl will attract valuable gifts,
and, in the words of an informant, "it's not much use asking for
a woman in marriage if you can't give a present." It is one of the
duties of the go-between to mention the gifts and to satisfy the
girl's relatives that they will be adequate: "Whoever goes as go-
between for the young man says, 'I want to ask you for your
daughter. I'll give you so many horses, so many buckskins,' and
he mentions whatever else he has been told to offer."

If an understanding between the families has been reached in
advance and the visit of the go-between is merely a formality, he
may take the presents with him and leave them as soon as con-
sent is granted. More commonly, he returns later to deliver what
has been promised. Therefore, the marriage gift is called "a
burden has been brought." If the arrangement entails the giving
of horses only, the prospective groom may simply turn them out
to graze with those of his future parents-in-law.

There are no definite limits to the number of presents that
may be promised, and the size of the gift has little bearing on the
status of the principals:

The woman's status is not affected by the amount of the present. The man
who gives a great deal is just thought of as a man who is able to give a great deal.
It's considered all right, but he can't raise his position that way. About four or
five horses with saddles would be a very big present. A horse or two would be
normal and average.

1 62 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

It would be a mistake to interpret these presents as a "bride
price." They do not entitle the husband or his family to any
extraordinary control over the wife or her property. In fact, the
control exercised by the wife's family over the husband is much
more stringent than that to which the woman is subject, despite
the total absence of any exchange gifts to the man's family.
Moreover, these gifts or their equivalents are never returned, not
even in cases of unfaithfulness on the part of the woman or of dis-
solution of the marriage tie.

The marriage gift functions as initial evidence of the economic
support, co-operation, and generosity which a man owes his
wife's close relatives. The promise of future assistance can even
take the place of the gift on occasion, for it is said that a poor
man, unable to muster wealth at the time he wishes to marry,
might say: "I am poor, but whatever I am able to accumulate in
the way of material things will be yours, for I will be here with
you all the time."

The usual practice, after the presents have been received, is
to "divide them up among the relatives." Kin of the girl who
have contributed to her support and who have been consulted
about the marriage arrangements, are sure to receive some part,
if only a token offering.

As soon as a separate dwelling can be built and equipped, the
young couple begin their married life together, without ritual or
formalities :

A day or two after consent is given, the marriage takes place. As soon as
everything is ready they start living together. The girl and her female relatives
build the house. They put it up near the home of the girl's parents, for the young
people usually go to live with the girl's relatives. The relatives of the girl usually
furnish baskets and household equipment for the place, though sometimes the
man's family may give them things with which to start out.

This emphasis upon matrilocal residence calls attention to
one of the fundamental themes of the culture, for the organiza-
tion of the economy assumes the presence and the closest co-
operation of the sons-in-law.

A man feels under obligation to his father-in-law. He feels that he should
hunt for him. Therefore, there was the tendency in the old days to go to the
wife's people. A man's parents recognized this obligation too. They often said,
"Well, that's what you married for. You'd better go over there."

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 163

Residence with or near his affinities is almost imperative for
the man, for obviously it would be an insupportable burden for
him to maintain a distant encampment of his own and still pro-
vide liberally for his wife's parents. Moreover, his identification
with these affinal relatives is not without its reciprocal benefits.

At marriage a man goes to the camp of the girl's parents to live. We do this
because a woman is more valuable than a man. We do it to accommodate the
woman. The son-in-law is considered a son and as one of the family. The in-laws
depend a great deal on him. They depend on him for hunting and all kinds of
work. He is almost a slave to them. Everything he gets on the hunt goes to
them. In return he has privileges with the property of his wife's people. He can
get anything they have very easily. It is understood that he can call on them for
aid. This relationship dates from the time of consent to the marriage.

Sometimes the arrival of the groom is the signal for a celebra-
tion at the encampment of the bride to which relatives and
friends of the couple are invited. The expense and labor are
borne by the woman's relatives, although the man's kin, if they
live close by, may assist. The program is the usual one of games,
feasting, and social dancing. The festivities continue through a
day and late into the night.

After marriage the face of the world is changed for the young
man: he removes to another residence, he becomes drawn into
the orbit of a new economic constellation, and he becomes sub-
ject to the edicts and desires of new masters.

THE MAN AND HIS WIFE'S RELATIVES

Primary avoidances and the avoidance behavior pattern. — The
regular terms for various affinal relatives are all forms of one
verb — the verb "to carry a burden." There have been recent ex-
tensions of the meaning of this root, but in the older sense the
burden to which reference is made seems to have been the pro-
ceeds of the hunt:

I can say to anyone, "I will bring in [carry in] deer for you," using this word.
Friends have said this to me because I do not hunt much. I say to them, using
the same word, "Yes, bring in the game for me." This does not imply any rela-
tionship between us necessarily. On the other hand, when it comes to marriage,
we speak of one who marries into our family as "one who carries things in for
me" in the sense of "one who goes out and kills and carries in game for me." The
word means to me that in the old days a son-in-law would go out and kill game

164 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

for his parents-in-law. The word implies to me that the man's business is to hunt
in this fashion for me if I am the father-in-law. It is his obligation to do so for-
ever.

It is not alone the father-in-law who calls a son-in-law "one
who carries burdens for me." Every relative of the wife, no
matter how remotely connected, is entitled to so address or refer
to the husband. And the term with which he reciprocates is
simply another form of the same verb which means "one for
whom I carry burdens."

From the moment that consent to the marriage has been given,
a relationship of total avoidance is established between the hus-
band and certain of his wife's relatives. With these persons,
avoidance is the unalterable rule and no choice is permitted.
"Even if your wife's parents don't approve of the marriage, they
have to be ashamed [practice avoidance] anyway." These ob-
ligatory avoidance affinities are: the wife's mother, her father,
her mother's mother, and her father's mother. Thus, when the
young man comes to his new home, there are at least three affinal
relatives living close by (providing they are still alive) upon
whom he may not look, and who may not see him. Even at the
marriage feast this rule of avoidance must be respected. Avoid-
ance makes necessary certain precautions in the arrangement of
homes and obviates the possibility of a common meal for the
larger relationship group, even though its members share the
same larder.

A man lives near his in-laws and brings what he gets on the hunt back to
them, all of it. His food is prepared there at his mother-in-law's place anyway.
The camp of the young people is so arranged that the place of the parents-in-law
cannot be seen; it might be behind some brush with the door facing the other
way. The wife eats with her husband, though the food is usually prepared at her
mother's home.

The bringing of food to the husband by the wife is termed
"she sets something in a container before him" :

This means the act of the wife in bringing to her husband food that has been
prepared by her mother. The word is now jokingly used to lazy men in the sense
of, "You want things pretty easy, don't you? You want things brought on a
silver platter to you."

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 165

The adjustments which avoidance requires are a constant
source of humor:

One day J. and I were in the trader's store. The baker was bringing in a tray
of bread and rolls, holding it before him. We did not see him and were in his way.
Someone shouted, "You, get out of the way! Do you think this is food being
carried to an avoided person?" He said that because it looked as if the baker was
coming to wait on us with a tray. Everyone laughed.

The difficulties of avoidance under all conditions give rise to a
crop of "mother-in-law jokes" too:

We have stories and jokes about the mother-in-law. A man will tell how
every time he wanted to cross a path or do this or that, his mother-in-law would
always come into sight. It sounds funny when told by an Indian in the Indian
language.

But, in spite of such levity, the obligation to avoid the desig-
nated affinities is solemn. The avoided person is called "the one
to whom I do not go," and all kindly disposed individuals are
expected to sound the warning, "Do not walk here!" when an
individual is about to come into the presence of anyone from
whom he "hides."

Sometimes by accident you meet a person you should avoid, nevertheless.
Then you just duck away as fast as possible. When it happens, a man gets angry
at himself sometimes. He says, "I should not have gone here." Or he might
blame his mother-in-law and say, "She had no business being around here." It is
a custom violated, and we do not like it.

The gravest objection is not to the proximity of the avoided
relative or to the sound of his voice but to the sight of him:

If I do not hide from my wife's relatives whom I am supposed to avoid, they
will call me a witch. If I run into the woman from whom I am supposed to hide
and do it right along, she gets angry and calls me a witch. They say you'll get
blind if you keep looking at these in-laws. This one tells the other relatives and
they may try to chase me away perhaps. But I love my wife and want to stay on.
Sometimes the Chiricahua had a little war among themselves about things like
this, and someone would get killed.

The average person takes little risk of jeopardizing his sight
or of being considered a witch:

Often a mother-in-law will not take part in a social dance if she thinks it will
expose her to her son-in-law. The same with a feast; both will not stay around at

1 66 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

the same time. Often a man has to duck away or go out the back way before a
crowd of people when his mother-in-law comes. They keep it up today and have
to be just as careful, although it is sometimes even harder now.

The husband is always conscious of the wishes and attitudes
of the affinal relatives he never sees; "the man is ruled by them."
Using his wife as messenger, they send him orders and hints of
praise or censure. They know as much about his activities as if
they shared his household, and he is correspondingly sensitive to
their reactions. Said one man: "I know that if I had trouble
with my wife, my father-in-law would stick up for her. Your
father-in-law tells you to do something, and if you don't do it,
you have your wife on your hands, scolding all the time."

A common device of the parents-in-law for communicating
directions is to tell their daughter what they want done when
they know her husband is within hearing. Once a man with
whom I was working paused to tell his daughter that he wanted
some rocks, which he considered a hazard to his home, removed.
No mention of who should do the work was made. But the im-
plications were clear, and the next day the son-in-law was busy
at the task. Soon after, the older man discussed the state of the
woodpile in the same impersonal vein, and the following day the
son-in-law was chopping wood.

Much oblique communication passes between avoidance
affinities when a situation warrants it:

You can't see your mother-in-law, but that doesn't mean that you don't think
a great deal of her. Very likely she's the one you count on most in your wife's
family. If you and your wife have trouble, maybe your mother-in-law will stand
out of sight and pretend to be talking to the baby or someone else, and she will
talk with you and try to settle the trouble you have been having. If she has
stood up for you in this way, probably, even if you separate from your wife, you
will continue to bring your mother-in-law food and things because you like her.

Sometimes the pretense of indirect discourse is dropped and an
actual conversation between the two avoidance affinities takes
place:

In cases of emergency, or if you have wronged your wife, your mother-in-law
may approach near enough to speak to you. She usually comes at night, but if
she comes during the day, she must be behind some object so that you cannot see
her face.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 167

Then, too, you may have to go and talk to her about important things. If you
are separated from your wife and you trust your mother-in-law, you may get the
help of somebody at your mother-in-law's camp to see that she is safely inside so
you won't run into her. Then, standing outside, you may talk to her.

The father-in-law, too, may find it necessary to state his views
directly:

I talked to that boy, her husband. I said, "I'm talking to you. This day
means something. It shouldn't be wasted. This day means something to every-
body. Every day means that you should bring in something to eat. Make it
count; work and make something. If you have nothing to eat, your wife cannot
cook anything for you. It's not your place to be angry at your wife because you
don't have anything to eat. Look at her clothes. Many things rest on you. It's
the man's duty to bring in the meat and clothes. You can't expect the woman to
do that."

I said, "My daughter, it is your place to keep house. Keep everything neat
about your place. Keep yourself neat the way you were when I was raising you.
Wear good clothes. Keep your husband's clothes clean. Keep your fire going all
the time. Quit running around nights and doing things as though you were
single. Don't fuss at each other."

And I said to the boy, "A woman must be treated well because she feeds you;
she's the only friend you have. Your mother and father can't treat you better
than your wife does. That's the way I feel about my wife." I told him, "She's
the mother of the whole thing, this life you have to go through, and you may
have a long life."

When quarrels arise among a man's affinal relatives, it is to

his advantage to be as neutral as possible, so that his relatives-

in-law, and particularly his wife's parents, will not condemn him

for intrusion into their affairs.

Now there's trouble at my place. My wife's stepmother told her that a cousin
said something about her. So my wife hasn't gone over to visit that cousin for a
long time. The cousin sees me and asks me why, but I make excuses and never
say. But then my wife met this cousin and told her the truth. The next day this
cousin came over to the stepmother and asked, "Did you tell that woman I said
so-and-so?" The stepmother said, "No." So now the cousin says my wife made
it all up. I thought it best to let my father-in-law know that I'm not taking
sides, that I'm only an in-law here. He says that it's all right, he does not hold it
against me. It's the nature of women, and we shouldn't bother about it, he says.

But it would be superficial to infer that the husband is con-
stantly tyrannized by his avoidance affinities. They would be
ill advised, indeed, to drive to divorce a man who is discharging

1 68 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

his obligations to them satisfactorily. "The mother-in-law sticks
up for the son-in-law in case of trouble if he is known to be a good
man. The mother-in-law does not beat about the bush. She tells
the person right out what is in her mind."

That the son-in-law can expect justice and consideration is
illustrated by a case, phrased in terms of present-day economy,
which preserves values operative in purely aboriginal times. The
son-in-law here assumes a passive attitude, for it would be un-
becoming of him to voice his own demands.

If one of the sons is lazy and the brother-in-law does all the work, all the
herding, and, when they come to sell the sheep or to slaughter the animals, the
son wants his proportionate share of the proceeds, his father will say to him,
"My son, your brother-in-law did all the work. Now you want just as much of
the profit as if you had worked. You must go and see your sister."

His sister says, "Take your bunch of sheep and put them in some other flock.
Get someone who will herd your sheep for nothing! That's what you are looking
for." The brother-in-law will sit by, keeping his peace.

Avoidance and honor comprise only one aspect of a man's

obligations to his wife's parents; the other facet is the duty of

economic support. "A son may help support the old people if he

desires to, but the son-in-law has to support them."

If his father-in-law wants a son-in-law to do something, he has to do it. If he
is given a bow and arrows, he has to go out. He is supposed to turn the whole
deer over to his father-in-law and mother-in-law and not to take any unless they
give it to him. The father-in-law and mother-in-law can share it with their
neighbors if they wish to. The young man gives to his in-laws even if he is not
ordered out to hunt by them.

This sense of identification with the economic activities of
the wife's relatives begins immediately upon marriage. "There
is something about it so that a man helps his wife's people." "As
soon as a man marries he feels that he should work for his father-
in-law and mother-in-law." The connection between this eco-
nomic tie and the rule of residence is again emphasized. "It is
usual to live with the wife's people. In the old days the boy had
to work for his father-in-law. If a man killed two deer, he would
give most of it to his wife's people." But so strong is the sense of
economic obligation to the wife's parents that its dictates are
heeded even when, for some reason, matrilocal residence is not

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 169

maintained. One informant said, "Now I live a mile or so from
my mother-in-law. I always want to help her though, for she is
alone and getting old."

This assistance is accepted as a matter of course and is viewed
as a right by the older affinity. "A man would come to a son-in-
law for aid before he would approach anyone else, even his own
brother." Requests made of a brother are a test of fraternal
solidarity and are seldom refused, but they constitute a tax on
the generosity of one who has obligations in other directions. To
approach the son-in-law instead relates to a primary economic
duty.

Although the son-in-law (because he is younger and more
vigorous than his wife's father) is called upon for the most ardu-
ous duties of the extended family, he, too, derives benefits from
the arrangement, for "he may take anything belonging to the
parents-in4aw, not because they are rich or poor, but because
that is the rule."

Often, in the economic exchanges that follow a marriage, the
son-in-law is by far the gainer. He may come to his wife's rela-
tives as a young man without many possessions. The older mem-
bers of the encampment which he joins may be wealthy and in-
fluential. Whatever of their goods he needs he may use freely,
and the reputation of the family advances his interests.

It occasionally happens that an affinal relative takes advan-
tage of the son-in-law. One man was considerably piqued be-
cause his mother-in-law, who had carried away untanned hides
from his home with the understanding that she would keep some
for herself and return the others tanned, had conveniently for-
gotten the latter part of the agreement. He was particularly
irritated because nothing could be done about the matter, since
it was his mother-in-law who was involved.

On the other hand, there are cases where a man has attempted
to elude the claims of his parent-in-law:

This year I had to make J. help my other son-in-law put up my camp at the
grounds of the girl's puberty rite. I asked him a first time, and he sent word that
he was working. I knew he wasn't doing a thing. So I sent someone with word
that he had to do it, and so he did.

170 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The extensions of avoidance. — The list of four affinities from
whom the newly married man must hide is only the theoretical
minimum; he is likely to be called upon to avoid many more in-
dividuals. Where the possibility of choice exists, the decision
concerning which of the alternatives is to be adopted rests with
the wife's relative. All the close kin of the wife — of her own, her
parents', and her grandparents' generation — may elect to re-
quest avoidance. The list includes siblings and cousins of her
father and mother, her grandfathers, siblings and cousins of her
grandparents, and her own siblings and cousins.

In practice the number is much reduced, however. With the
exception of those for whom avoidance is mandatory, most of the
woman's male relatives will require only the polite form of speech
from the husband. Many of them will waive even this require-
ment. Seldom do a woman's relatives of her own generation
exercise their privilege of requesting avoidance. Most cousins
and many siblings make no attempt to inaugurate even polite-
form usages. The man's affinities who are most likely to demand
avoidance are the sisters of his mother-in-law. It would be an
affront if they failed to do so. Female cousins of the mother-in-
law may be satisfied with polite form, however, and where the
cousin relationship is rather remote, all special usages may be
ignored.

Those who have been mentioned thus far as persons with the
right to ask for avoidance are consanguineous relatives of the
wife. But a stepmother who is not the wife's blood relative may
request avoidance of her stepdaughter's husband. Once a young
man and I were about to seek shelter from the cold in a trader's
store. My friend opened the door, then said quickly, "I can't go
in there. There is someone in there I can't see." We stole in
through another door and made our way to a storeroom. The
woman whose presence had made necessary our devious route
turned out to be the stepmother and no real kin of the man's
wife. Of the circumstances surrounding this case my companion
said:

I avoid my wife's stepmother and cannot look at her. She requested it
through my wife. It isn't necessary that a man avoid his wife's stepmother, but

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS

171

she sent word that we were to avoid each other, and so I must do it. She could
have requested polite form only if she had wanted to, and we wouldn't have had
to use that either if she had not requested it.

In a number of other cases the stepmother has not requested the
avoidance.

A man may be called upon to avoid those who have adopted
and reared his wife, even though they are no real kin of the girl.
The initiative comes from the foster-parents, and ordinarily none
but the foster-mother and foster-father of the woman will be in-
volved. Such cases are rare, however, for almost always some
relatives survive to care for an orphan child.

Where avoidance is not obligatory, there are a number of
factors which may determine the decision. The closeness or re-
moteness of the relationship to the woman through whom the
affinal bond is established is one of these. Thus, a sister of the
wife's mother would be more likely to request avoidance than
would the mother-in-law's female cousin, though both have the
identical right theoretically. And, if a "first cousin" of the
mother-in-law makes the request, it will still occasion no sur-
prise, for she is considered a close relative of the bride. But if
cousins of the mother-in-law beyond this range come forward
with the demand, personal, less explicit reasons are likely to
account for it.

When the two kin are very good friends, avoidance is likely
to be the choice, for it is a means of honoring the wife by accord-
ing the utmost respect to her mate. Since so much depends upon
the manner in which intimacy has developed in the course of the
years among kin, the reality may differ from the theoretical ex-
pectations. A mother's sister who has not got along too well with
her niece may ask for no more than polite form from that rela-
tive's husband, whereas a mother's female cousin who happens
to have the liveliest interest in the young woman may exercise
full rights in the affinity situation. Accordingly, the selection of
avoidance, where a choice exists, is evidence of approval of the
union and of the principals to it.

Just as friendly backgrounds operate to establish avoidance
understandings, so do opposite circumstances make them less

172 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

likely. Where hostility has existed between the husband and the
wife's relative in the past, avoidances which are not obligatory
will certainly not be requested.

If the new affinity has formerly been on most familiar terms
with the wife's relative, it is felt that the intimate knowledge
implied makes difficult the formal behavior of an avoidance
obligation. Here, again, the polite form or less is deemed suf-
ficient. Avoidance will also be waived when it is apparent that
for some reason the two concerned are likely to be thrown to-
gether continually in situations where such behavior would be
unfeasible.

Once avoidance has been established by choice, it is indis-
tinguishable from avoidance begun automatically. Upon the
marriage of his relative, the person who may exercise choice in
respect to avoidance must come to an immediate decision.
''There is no such thing as failing to avoid a certain relative-in-
law for a number of years and then suddenly deciding to do it.
The avoidance starts immediately after the marriage that makes
it possible, or it does not occur at all." The decision to establish
avoidance must be communicated to the relative at once, so that
her husband will know what is expected of him and will not
suffer the embarrassment of coming into the presence of one
whom he should not see. If the husband and his wife's relative
meet face to face before any notice is sent, it is very difficult to
carry out the plan of avoidance:

B.'s wife is a distant relative of my wife. After I married I ran into her. I
didn't know she was intending to hide from me. She didn't send any message to
me. When she saw me she said, "I was going to hide from him, but now I'll just
be polite in words" [use polite form].

The continuation or termination of avoidance. — Even after the
death of the spouse through whom it was established, unless
extraordinary steps are taken, avoidance continues. And if the
widower marries a woman of another family, the avoidance obli-
gations to his first wife's relatives still persist:

F. was married to M.'s daughter. She died eight years ago. There were no
other girls for him to marry in M.'s family when his wife died. He married E.'s
girl. He avoids both Mrs. M. and Mrs. E. now.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 173

K. avoids my mother-in-law, who is his mother-in-law, too, by a first mar-
riage. When his wife died there were no other available girls in the family. So he
married outside the family. Now he avoids B., his present mother-in-law, too.

I hide from my present father-in-law. My first wife's mother was living
until recently, and I hid from her too.

Avoidance of the wife's relatives commonly continues, also,
after the separation of the married pair. This is all the more re-
markable because, with divorce, the family of the woman loses
all real claim to the economic support of the former husband.

The perpetuation of the avoidance relations serves a number
of functions. It acts as a reminder that marriage is more than a
matter of sexual privileges; that it is, in addition, a commitment
of co-operation and respect between a man and a family — a com-
mitment which death, remarriage, or divorce cannot entirely
efface. Also it encourages a man to remarry into the same family
after the death of his wife, for double obligations of this nature
loom as a burden to him. Finally, it deters divorce and re-
marriage into another family with the attendant obligations.

Termination of avoidance in any circumstances is strongly
opposed by some informants:

According to the old custom, the person who stops avoiding his in-law is a
witch. A man is a fool for stopping. I don't care if you are divorced; it goes on.
It could be stopped, of course. I could get angry and say to my wife's relative,
"Oh, I'm not going to hide from you any more." But what would people think of
me? I wouldn't do it, I'm a good Chiricahua. You can't do it gracefully. The
men in the three cases [of duplicate avoidance obligations following remarriage] I
have just given you are young fellows. One is thirty-two years old, one is also in
his thirties, the oldest is about forty. All were born under government supervi-
sion. If the young fellows do it, what do you think about the old fellows? They
wouldn't stop doing it. C. told me these forms go on and on.

And yet, under certain conditions, avoidance may be sus-
pended or terminated:3

In an emergency, at the birth or death of a member of the family, in a case of
life or death, you can go over avoidance and walk right in to the place where your
mother-in-law or someone from whom you hide is. But it's not necessary to drop

3 The procedure described at this point is also used to terminate the cousin
avoidances described on pp. 61-62.

174 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

polite form at this time. You can say anything you want in polite form. This
may occur at a birth, when a woman labors so hard that some man who knows
how to take care of her is needed. Then they overlook it.

Obligatory avoidances cannot be permanently ended while the

woman because of whom the relationship was established is still

alive. Even where avoidance was optional, "almost always the

woman whose marriage had started the relationship would be

asked first and her approval gained if she were still alive."

A man might have bad luck. One after another of his relatives might die.
There might be a certain relative whom he avoids, but who he thinks might give
him good advice and encouragement if he could talk matters over with him. So
he tells his wife that he does not want to avoid her relative any more. If she
thinks it is all right, he rolls a cigarette, takes a few puffs on it, and sends it to the
relative with word that, after this, they should not hide from each other. If the
relative takes the cigarette and smokes it too, it is all over, and they do not
hide from each other after that.

The first move may come from either affinal relative:

There was an equal right for either the husband or the woman's relative to
roll and send the cigarette. A man might say to his wife: "I no longer want to
avoid your brother. I want to be with him and go with him and speak with him."
If his wife approved, he would have her take over the cigarette. When the avoid-
ance is broken off like this we say, "It has become again that one goes to him."

Cigarettes offered in this fashion do not have to be accepted:

When a cigarette was offered in this way to end an avoidance relationship, it
could be refused, but this refusal would never show anger on the part of the per-
son who refused. A man might say: "We have hidden from each other all these
years. All this time we have helped each other and thought well of each other.
I do not think our relations would be helped by this move. I would rather hide
from you for the rest of my life."

Even when avoidance is abrogated, a measure of formality is
retained. "If the two who are hiding from each other smoke a
cigarette like that, they don't have to hide from each other any
more. But they have to keep on with the polite form."

After the death of a man's wife and his remarriage, the obliga-
tory avoidance observances between him and relatives of his
first wife may be terminated:

If the family has no more girls he can marry and a man gets permission to
marry out of the family after his wife's death, perhaps he will not want to avoid
his first wife's father any longer. In that case he will take a cigarette and go

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 175

through that ceremony. This happens a good many times. It happened with S.
and P. not long before S. died. That was about six months ago. P. was S.'s
father-in-law. They had been hiding from each other for over forty years. Six
months ago they gave each other cigarettes in this way. After that you could see
them sitting together talking, just like any other two men. The same thing hap-
pened between M. and K.

Personality conflicts in the avoidance relationship. — In spite of
the absolute standards of good will which are supposed to govern
the relations between a married man and his affinities, conflicts
in interests and in personalities do occur. The wife is in contin-
uous touch with her relatives, and any indignity she suffers at
the hands of her husband is immediately known to them. The
husband is in an anomalous position until his standing among
his wife's kin is assured, for, although he is nominally considered
the head of his household, he is subject to the strict scrutiny of
his wife's relatives.

Irritations and resentments between affinal relatives some-
times erupt into open hostility:

R. was .... always abusing his wife. It led to a fight between him and the
woman's stepfather. The stepfather was just like a bulldog. In the fight he bit
R.'s finger off. He must have swallowed it, for they never found it. It was a
jubilee fight, right on a moonlit night!

The older participant, the wife's stepfather, had never avoided
his opponent. Therefore, the encounter did not involve a viola-
tion of the avoidance obligation. But in the heat of anger even
that extreme breach of etiquette has been known to take place:

A man has just beaten up his mother-in-law. This man has avoided his
mother-in-law and her sister. He has had trouble with his wife and has been
separated from her. Now he has tried to get his wife to go on with him again.
He went over to her place. Her mother was so angry at him that she came right
over to the place where he was. They threw everything to the wind and began
fighting. He beat her up. They won't even use polite form any more. They in-
sulted each other and got kicked, so what's the use of polite form now? But this
does not mean that the man will not continue to avoid his mother-in-law's sister.
It depends on the individuals concerned.

Of another mother-in-law-son-in-law breach this account was
given:

One man had serious trouble with his wife and her family. His mother-in-law
helped his wife throw stones at him and drive him out of camp. She saw him that

176 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

time! But now they are hiding from each other again. This happened about six
months ago.

The last part of the quotation reveals the usual aftermath of
such violent incidents. Ordinarily the principals are very con-
trite and are glad to have the episode forgotten.

Quarrels between son-in-law and father-in-law are likewise not
unknown:

We were staying at the old man's place [the father-in-law's place]. They came
after me. They had been drinking tiswin and were drunk. I heard them say,
"We'll beat him up." They went out to the woodpile to get clubs to beat me
with.

"I don't like this," I said to my wife. "I don't want to live here."

She said, "I can't help it. I'm afraid of my father. He's pretty bad."

I said, "The best man's going to get away from here!"

These three who were coming for me were all relatives of my wife; they all
used polite form to me too. But they were sticking up for the old man. I got my
ax. I was angry. They came for me. I came out of my home. I had the ax be-
hind me. They advanced.

I said to the first one, "What do you want?"

"You are not the only man!" he told me.

I said, "You come any nearer and someone is bound to get hurt!" and I began
swinging my ax. One of them is a coward. He backed out when he saw the ax.
Another began asking, "What's he done?"

I told him, "Don't make believe! You've got a club in your hand, and you
know what you've got it for."

Just then one of my relatives came. "What's the matter?" he asked. I told
him. "If they're going to club you, they've got to club me too," he said. Then
they backed down.

Once an informant asserted darkly that his mother-in-law
was "no good." The only explanation of this unusual statement
he would vouchsafe at the time was, "She comes around here and
cusses me out." Little by little the details of the clash emerged.
His later statement was this:

I was sitting in the agent's office and she came right up to me. "After this we
will not avoid each other," she said. I guess she was angry at me about something.
She feels pretty bad about it now, but I am not going to avoid her any more. She
can hide from me if she wants to, but I am going on just as I am now.

But the actual cause of the quarrel had to be obtained from
other sources and turned out to involve property of the woman
which had been improperly disposed of by the son-in-law.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS i77

Polite form. — Polite form is a special third-person singular or
plural form of the verb attached to every paradigm. There is an
ordinary third-person form, and so linguists distinguish between
the two by labeling the polite form the "fourth person." Since
the polite form, though it can be used in direct address, is essen-
tially a third-person form, it necessarily injects a note of indirec-
tion into any conversation in which it is employed.

The presence of an avoided person, if he is within hearing,
must be discreetly ignored, and direct address to him is ordinari-
ly ruled out except for moments of crisis. At these times it is the
polite form of speech which passes between the two. Whenever
one avoidance affinity speaks of another, and this is much more
common, the reference must be couched in the fourth-person
form.

Since the common set of terms for affinal relatives is derived
from the verb "to carry a burden," and since every paradigm
has a fourth-person form as well as a regular third-person form,
it follows that there are two ways of saying "affinity who has
married into my family" — one polite and one ordinary — and two
ways of saying "affinity into whose family I have married." The
two terms of this set which are expressed in the fourth-person
form are the ones used to denominate affinities who are avoided
or to address those to whom polite form is used. The other pair
is used of or to affinities with whom neither avoidance nor polite
form has been inaugurated.

There are two other words in use to designate affinal -relatives
with whom avoidance or polite-form usages have been instituted.
They, too, are taken from verbs and are fourth-person forms.
Unlike the words of the other set, these two forms indicate the
sex of the person to whom they are addressed. The term which
singles out the male to whom polite form or avoidance is owed
literally means "he who is old" and in a primary sense has the
connotation of father-in-law. The other, in use to or of women
of a comparable category and carrying the primary meaning of
mother-in-law, can be translated as "she who has become old."
The use of the two affinity systems overlaps. For instance, the

178 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

father-in-law can be referred to by the son-in-law as "one for
whom I carry burdens'' and also as "he who is old."

The question of whether polite form is to be required and the
mode of notification are the business of the woman's relatives.

As soon as the relatives of the girl heard about it, those who intended to do so
started to use the polite form the next time they saw me. They told me that I
should use the polite form to them, and in that very sentence they used it them-
selves. So they really used it first.

Polite form begins immediately after marriage. Sometimes the individual
tells you to use the polite form; sometimes he or she just uses it to you, and you
must use it in return.

Perfect decorum must be maintained when two "who are

ashamed in words" are together:

You can't pass water, defecate, or use smutty language when anyone to whom
you use polite form is around. If one of them is in an embarrassing or ridiculous
position, you cannot laugh at him but must leave the place immediately. You
have to be careful of your language, too, when someone like this is around.

Ordinarily, names may be used in speaking of absent persons,

but a stricter usage is observed by a polite-form affinity:

You don't call the name of a man to whom you use polite form. If you do
have to mention his name, you have to add something, as "the one who is known
as C." or "the one who is called C." Others can use his name before you though.
Usually in referring to him you just say "the one who is an affinity to me."

It is evident that these observances are related to that same

economic solidarity which exists between avoidance relatives:

I feel that if I needed some service or property I could ask it of someone to
whom I used the polite form. I'd be sure of getting it. If I were having a girl go
through the puberty ceremony, I might ask these people for help, and a man
helps his wife's relatives meet the expense of a ceremony which his wife's relatives
are putting on. You can take property privileges with anyone to whom you use
the polite form. You can borrow property from them freely, for you know they
will never say anything to you that is disrespectful. You have more rights in this
respect than you would with your own family.

But in spite of convention, polite form, like avoidance, often

masks repressed dislikes:

Some people, when they get drunk, will fight their own fathers. And they
don't care if someone they have to be polite to tries to handle them. Even though
they are supposed to be ashamed before a person, that isn't going to hold them
down when they're drunk. Sometimes they don't like a person they are ashamed
before in words, and then, when they are drunk, it comes out.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS

179

Theoretically, all adult relatives of the wife who do not auto-
matically avoid her husband may request polite form of him.
There are some of these relatives who will almost certainly ask
for polite form and others who probably will not. Among the
former are those who might have been expected to request avoid-
ance, but who, for some reason, did not. Any other course would
advertise the poor opinion they have of their relative or of her
new mate.

But there will be more distantly related kin of the wife who
have had little intimate contact with her. When such individuals
meet the man for the first time after his marriage, they may in-
dicate the unchanged nature of the association by speaking
pleasantly to him in the ordinary way. Most likely they will
address the in-law term, "one who carries burdens for me," to
him, but it will be the ' 'regular" and not the "polite" term of
the set that they will use.

As in the case of avoidance, where latitude in the matter exists
and polite form is chosen nevertheless, it may be accepted as an
evidence of friendliness and approval:

A person who does not have to ask for avoidance or polite form but who does
it anyway shows that he or she likes the relative and approves of the in-law. It
shows approval of the marriage. I should be very proud, for many of the promi-
nent men of the reservation use polite form to me.

The ages of some of the wife's relatives at the time of her
marriage automatically prevent many polite-form usages (and
avoidances too) from ever being established:

A person could not request polite form from another until he or she was old
enough to understand the custom, that is, until about eighteen years of age.4

I don't talk in the polite way to S. He was little when I married his sister, so
he couldn't ask for it. It's got to be started right away, so we have never talked
in polite form all these years

In fact, the relations established in lieu of polite form between
a man and the younger members of his wife's extended family are

4 The concept of the years of discretion, independence, and maturity has
stretched with white contact. In purely aboriginal times an individual several
years younger than the age mentioned would have been prepared to make deci-
sions of this kind. But the substance of the statement would hold, doubtless, for
preadolescents in aboriginal times.

180 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

likely to be really informal. These youngsters are among the few
individuals of that group with whom the man does not have to
exercise care in word and action, and he is soon on grounds of
easy familiarity with them. This makes all the more impossible
any establishment of future restraint relations with them.

The last statement implies another factor which controls
polite-form decisions — the degree of past or present intimacy
between the wife's relative and her husband.

If a relative of your wife doesn't want you to use polite form to him, perhaps
it is because he likes you very much and wants to go with you as a partner.
Then you'd have to sleep together when you were out camping, bathe together,
relieve yourselves when you were together, and that would be all right only if he
was not ashamed of you in words. If the polite relationship exists, you can't
undress, urinate, or do anything personal like that in his presence. If you ever go
out with your wife's brother on a hunt and there is only flat country around and
no place to hide, the shame relationship would make it hard on you. So, often,
the polite form is not entered into for practical reasons.

C. called my father "cousin" [father's brother's son, in this case]. I call C.'s
daughter "cousin." When she married, I could have used polite form to her
husband. Then he would have had to use it to me. But I did not want to, be-
cause we had been pretty intimate. He would have had to act reserved, and it
was hard to put him in that position after what had taken place.

But, once it is started, polite form cannot be casually termi-
nated. "If your wife's brother wants to change his relationship
with you, your wife would object, and a thing like this might
even break up the marriage. You can't quit or change in the
middle."

In reference to the perpetuation of the polite form beyond the
life-span of the connecting relative and after divorce, there are
these dicta:

We use these forms and usages as long as these people to whom we are acting
in this way live. Even if a man's wife dies, this goes on.

We keep up polite forms even after the death of the wife. In case of divorce,
polite form continues too.

Polite form is terminated even less frequently than avoidance.
If total avoidance becomes an intolerable burden, after a death
or divorce it may be scaled down to polite form. But if polite
form were discarded, there would be a return to familiar relations

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS

181

on the part of persons between whom restraint has been prac-
ticed for some time — an abrupt change of demeanor which most
individuals do not care to invite.5

THE MARRIED MAN AND HIS BLOOD KIN

The formal obligations of a man to his wife's relatives are ex-
plicit and numerous, but he is seldom as isolated from his own
relatives and friends as a bare recital of affinal relationships
would suggest :

There is the word that means one household or home. If the group of related
households is very small, if there is only one, or if there are only two or three
dwellings in it, you might call this a household still, for we do not like to use the
word "extended family" unless there are as many as five or six houses.

"Extended family" means a group of homes occupied by relatives. At the
very least an extended family is a father and mother, their unmarried children,
and the families of their married daughters.

Several extended families make up the local group. In most cases it includes
families which are connected by marriage, and between whose members friendly
relations signified by the term "friends we have become" are in force.

It appears, then, that it is not unusual for families whose mem-
bers have intermarried to belong to the same local group, and
often a married man may expect to have consanguineous rela-
tives as well as affinities in the vicinity. One factor which ex-
plains why families united by marriage live in such close proxim-
ity is the absence, in general, of any obligation to marry out of
the local group.

At our encampment we are really an extended family. My father-in-law is
here with his father-in-law. I am here with my father-in-law. If my wife's sister
marries, there will be another household. Since the people in such an extended
family are all related, all the girls and boys of marriageable age are silah to each
other and can't marry. But a man doesn't have to go far for a wife, for there are
many extended families near by from which he can choose a wife. Being in the
same local group doesn't prevent a man from marrying someone. There has to be
real relationship to prevent marriage.

This does not mean that a mate is always chosen from the
same local group. Previous marriages within the local group may
make this impossible: "Marriages like this went on between

5 Yet polite form can be terminated to accommodate the sororate-levirate
(see p. 424).

1 82 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

those who camped together all the time, until they became so
intermarried that the younger people were really relatives, and
then men had to go elsewhere for wives. " And yet, the better
chance of the young people of the same district to become ac-
quainted, the fluidity of the local group over the years, and the
tendency to forget quickly remoter kin who are deceased make it
possible for many of the youths to find eligible mates in their
own local groups and to strengthen the ties between the resident
families.

Even when the extended families united by the marriage of
their younger members do not reside in the same local group,
they are drawn into closer understanding by these marital ar-
rangements:

If a man of one local group marries a woman of another, his kin do not con-
sider themselves related to his wife's people. But there is a relationship of mu-
tual friendliness and help which is set up between the two families. If someone of
the family of the boy is giving a tiswin party or a social dance, the members of
the other family are sure to be invited. The relationship is expressed by this
term, "friends we have become." If a person uses this of another, it is understood
that they are friends because of the marriage of a relative of one to a relative of
the other. This word can be used for other things. You can say, using it, "Be-
cause he gave me something, we have become friends," but in this case the reason
for the friendship has to be expressed. If the word is used alone, it gives the idea
of friendship through marriage.

N. is on especially friendly terms with D. and his family. He borrows their
property and can get help there any time. Yet N. and D. are not relatives. They
have no right to call each other anything. It is because N.'s sister married D.'s
brother; their relatives have married. This is a good example of "friends we have
become."

When two families whose members marry live in the same
local group, the benefits of the new bond are not difficult to ex-
ploit. This is less simple when the families are separated by
some distance. Consequently, there is a tendency for inter-
married families to make the logical adjustments. "The family
of a married man would be very likely to locate near the family
of the girl he married, because they considered themselves bound
by ties of friendship. They would all be in the same local group,
camping in the same general region."

Obviously, this is no rule which can be strictly followed.
Where a number of sons marry into separated groups, a choice

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 183

has to be made if the family is to live near "friends." All that can
be said is that residence in one place rather than in another may
be determined by the presence there of a family with which
friendly connections have been established through marriage.
The presence of his own kin in the same local group where he
lives with his affinities assures the newly married man of the
perpetuation of a good many past ties, as an understanding of the
relations between the extended family and the local group sug-
gests.

The local group is a cluster of encampments in one general locality. It is a
division of the larger group, the band. The people in it all camp around some
well-known spot from which the local group gets its name. Those who camp
around Mora Mountain are called "People of Mora Mountain." This refers to
all the people living together in this region. But within the local group there
would be other divisions. All would not live at one place. Some would camp on
one side of the mountain, some would camp on the other. Others might camp at
any favorable spot near water. These smaller groups or camps are decided along
relationship lines. That is, all the relatives and those who marry into a certain
family live together.

These smaller units, the extended families, are referred to by means of the
leading men in them. Thus, we speak of N.'s encampment, C.'s encampment.
The local group is not a relationship group strictly, but the extended family does
consist of relatives. If a person asks, "Who are you? To what people do you
belong?" you give the name of your band. But if someone asks where you live,
you say that you are one of a certain local group.

The local group tie is essentially one of residence and may be

severed summarily :

The children are usually members of the local group to which the mother
belongs, because a man is supposed to live near and work for his wife's people.
When a man of one local group marries a woman of another, his direct affiliation
with the first local group is over. He is now related by marriage to people in the
second local group. But he has relatives in the first one, and in case of trouble or
divorce he would go back there.

Further characteristics of the local group are summarized in

this explanation:

The local group consists of a number of extended families living near some
prominent family, that is, living around some family who has a good leader.
This leader would be expected to lead the men of the local group when they go on
a raid or engage in war. But each extended family has its own place to store
food. And whenever a girl's puberty rite takes place, people outside the local
group come too.

1 84 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

A great many families of a local group are related, but not all of them. There-
fore, it does not necessarily mean that a man has to marry outside the local
group. The families who make up the group shift constantly. A family will often
go and attach itself to some other local group.

The women of a local group are the ones who would go to gather mescal
together. Those who went would go and come from the main group. It might be
that they'd split off into smaller parties which would later rejoin. It depends on
how thick the mescal is in one place and how many people there are.

The members of the local group can go anywhere in the territory of their
band, but they are out of place if they go into the territory of another band. An
individual or family of the Southern Chiricahua band might join many Southern
Chiricahua local groups in turn

At the time of a big raid, men from more than one local group might get
together, but those from each locality would stay around their own leader. He
acted as a sort of captain for them. When they made camp at night, those from
one local group would stay together. For boys' training, the young fellows of a
local group are the most that would be brought together at one time.

Though allegiance to the local group is brittle and its compo-
sition is constantly changing, it does provide a common name,
base, and leadership for its members and gives them the oppor-
tunity to engage in certain industries in common. In these
matters it cuts across the boundaries of the extended family, and,
if a married man has blood relatives in the same local group, it
offers him the opportunity to co-operate with these kin for many
purposes. This means that his horizon is never entirely limited
to the interests of his affinities.

THE WOMAN AND HER HUSBAND'S RELATIVES

The married woman has no formal obligation to labor for her
husband's relatives but is expected to carry on her industrial
activities in company with her mother and sisters as a permanent
member of the extended family in which she was born. More-
over, none of her husband's kin calls upon her to avoid them. To
express approval, some of them may, however, use polite form
in speaking to her.

Relatives of a boy can ask the girl he marries for polite talk if they think
much of him. His own brothers and sisters and cousins can do this. The father
and mother of the boy don't do this. They regard their son's wife as their own
daughter. The brothers and sisters of both the father and the mother can do it
though. But they don't have to. It's up to them.

SOCIAL RELATIONS OF ADULTS 185

Another quotation extends this information:

If she is asked to start it [polite form] with the boy's brothers, she can never
marry one of them. The reason given for not using polite form to the boy's
mother is that his mother may be required to be at the birth of the child of her
daughter-in-law, and it would not be right for her to have such intimate dealings
with the girl if she used the polite form to her. At the birth of a child, no one who
uses polite form to the mother is around.

Other statements explain that the collateral relatives of the
husband's grandparents but not the grandparents themselves,
may request polite form. It appears that the classes of affinities
that expect avoidance from the husband are the very ones which,
in the woman's affinal constellation, refrain from making even
the polite-form request. None of these polite-form usages is
obligatory, it should be noted. This time the initiative comes
from the husband's relatives. The same sets of terms are uti-
lized; it is the young woman who is called "one who carries
burdens for me" by her affinity and who calls her husband's
relative "one for whom I carry burdens."

Again, the usage, to be effective, must begin at once. "I
could have used polite form to my cousin's wife. It's too late
now. I didn't start it from the beginning. My cousin could have
used the polite form to my wife, but he didn't either."

In determining whether he will make the request for polite
form of the wife, each member of the husband's relationship
group is guided by considerations of age, degree of past intimacy,
and closeness of connection to the linking relative — the same
factors operative in the man's avoidance and polite-form obliga-
tions. Polite form between the woman and her affinal relative,
once started, also is supposed to continue indefinitely, regardless
of the disturbance of the union by divorce or death.

A woman's obligations to her affinities at marriage are slight
compared with those to which her husband is subject, but their
existence does serve to indicate that she owes consideration to
her husband's kin and can never entirely eliminate them from
her plans. Their claim upon her is most fully realized at the
death of her mate when they can force her to accept a brother or
a cousin of the deceased in his stead.

FOLK BELIEFS, MEDICAL PRACTICE
AND SHAMANISM

FOLK BELIEFS, MUSCULAR TREMORS, AND DREAMS

A LL items of belief are by no means of equal importance.

I \ They range in significance from the trivial to those

JL JL basic for the ceremonies. Many of them are of no great

moment and, indeed, may be uttered half in jest.

They say in the way of a joke that you get a rash from giving things and tak-
ing them back all the time. You have to put ashes on the rash, which is called
"lice sew you up." If you are stingy, the person from whom you take things
says, "I wish you'd get warts" [such warts should be cut off with sinew], or, "I
wish you'd get the rash."

Sneezing, which indicates that "someone is thinking of you,"
may also be treated jokingly:

Upon sneezing, they say, "I am still here for you," or, "Sometime we will see
each other again, sweetheart." Once two old men and I were together. One
sneezed, and he made this remark. The other told him, "Nobody is thinking of
you, you old fool! All that means is that you're catching cold."

Yet some regard the sneeze as an ominous sign and pray to the
culture hero or exclaim, "May it be well!"

When the ear rings, "someone is talking about you," and
young people think the speaker is one of their admirers. Some
persons regard a frequent buzzing in the ear as a sign that good
news will be heard; others say it is the calling of a dead relative.
A burning sensation in the ear is a harbinger of cold weather.

Rings around the sun and moon indicate change of weather,
rain, or snow. Rain will come if a horned toad or a snake is killed
and turned on its back, if a dog rolls on the ground, if there is a
good deal of drumming in the camps or much singing of masked-
dancer songs. Smoke from a big fire kindled on a still night will
cause clouds to gather. The crescent moon "is draining" when
its tip is pointed downward, and rain falls. "A dark, heavy,
pouring rain is male; a light rain when the horizon seems bright

186

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 187

nevertheless is called female rain." To stop rain or snow, lice
are hunted and tied to a rock with sinew; or an individual may
draw a charcoal ring around his anus and lift his buttocks to the
sky to bring the sun out. Sudden storms are regarded with fear.
"If it doesn't look like rain, but then the wind and dust come
up suddenly and it starts to rain, it brings news — bad news of
death. If someone is very sick and this happens, it means he
won't last. I have seen it happen."

Various things are seen in the half or full moon, the most com-
mon being walnut or cottonwood trees and a human face. Some
persons think that watching the sunrise or sunset colors will
cause sickness. Warts are also the penalty for pointing to heaven-
ly bodies with the fingers; only the thumb may be so used.

Pulling out gray hair is said to make it grow faster; it is also
held that one who brings water and drinks first himself will grow
old quickly. It is forbidden to step over a person who is sitting
or lying down: "If someone starts to step over you before he
sees you, he has to go back. If he has already stepped over, he
has to step back." Because it "may cause a severe pain in the
stomach, food which is being cooked is not stirred with a knife."
Eating frogs can result, it is thought, in bowlegs. Blood and
tobacco are considered incompatible:

My people don't want any blood around when they smoke. If there is blood
on the hands, they will get it off before they smoke. If a person has a knife with
blood on it, he cleans it up or puts it away before he smokes. He will have bad
luck otherwise.

Much of the cosmology is expressed in terms similar to the
beliefs already enumerated. Thus, the pitching of a flour-laden
burro explains the Milky Way; an earthquake is the crying of the
earth over an approaching epidemic; eclipses, either of the sun or
of the moon, warn of epidemics also and necessitate a masked-
dancer ceremony to ward off the disaster; a shooting star points
to an advancing enemy; of a cloudburst it is said, "The sky is
old and has split there; when it is sewed up it will be all right."

Of greater significance than such beliefs is a diagnostic sign,
a muscular tremor, which few fail to heed at some time in their
lives:

1 88 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

This is the unknown force, the power, that causes the twitching of the flesh
anywhere on your body. Some people have it near the eye, some at the foot, the
shoulder, or on some other part of the body. The Chiricahua believe in this as an
indication of what is going to happen. A man is starting out on a trip by horse.
If he gets the tremor and it tells him not to go, he turns back until another day.
It is often the determining factor in a person's life. It shows you some special
event. A person may occasionally get it in various parts of the body, but he
knows of a special place that has a meaning for him. Some believe in this more
than they do in the shaman. To some this is the real power. People find out by
experience what their tremor means.

I know that certain signs mean certain things. I get it under one eye. It
means someone is going to die. I had it for two days at the beginning of the girl's
puberty rite. Soon after the ceremony a woman died. I mentioned this to an-
other man with whom I was walking. He said he had it there sometimes too
and that it was a bad sign for him also. Just two weeks ago I had this sign for a
long time. Now I learn that C.'s wife has just died. This trembling under the
eye is a general sign, and all agree on its meaning. But I didn't recognize these
signs for myself or notice that they were giving information to me until a few
years ago. I had had this sign a great deal. I decided to study it and see if it was
true. So I remembered whenever I had it, and, sure enough, someone always
died a few days later.

.... Some people, when they have a bad sign, rub ashes on the place that is
trembling. Or they say, "Whatever you are, don't let this thing come to pass."
The ashes don't make my trembling stop.

Tribute is paid to the dependability of these signals by another
informant:

Muscular shaking is recognized as "that which informs one" in some emer-
gency. When a man is just about to do something that will cost him his life or
property, or to make some great decision, if he knows the meaning of his muscu-
lar tremor, he will be warned. Some people pray to their muscular tremor. It is
so specialized to some that they look upon it as a ceremony for themselves.
Some people place more faith in it than in ceremonies.

When you have the shaking on the outside of your legs, it is recognized by
everybody as a bad sign. For most people this holds good. A person must recog-
nize what his own tremors mean though. You watch what happens after you get
it and then you learn what it was trying to say to you. Pretty soon it is a sure
thing to you. The inside of the legs is usually a good sign. If the muscle of the
arm [bicep] twitches, it is said that the person will carry a great deal; he will be
successful in war.

My good sign is over my right eye. When it is under my left eye, it is surely
going to rain. In the old days, during the Indian Wars, when I was nervous and
afraid, I would get a tremor on the inside of my leg. Then I would be at peace
and go to sleep. It was my sign.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 189

The warnings of muscular tremor served well in the strife of
the seventies and eighties:

Once a bunch of Geronimo's band saw C. and his wife working in the distance.
They planned to catch C. and force him to go with them. All of a sudden they
saw C. and the woman drop everything, jump on a horse, and head back toward
the reservation. Many years later someone reminded C. of this. They asked him
what warned him. He said, "Oh, yes! I remember the time. I was working and
all of a sudden I got a muscular tremor sign which I knew from experience meant,
'Something bad is going to happen. Drop everything!' So I did."

The most prevalent of these signs by far and the ones upon
which there is greatest agreement are those which occur on the
outside and the inside of the arms and legs and those which are
felt above and below the eyes. But personal variation is common
too.

While everyone knows of these signs, there is a marked dif-
ference in the amount of reliance which each individual places
upon them. Most persons accept the warnings gratefully and try
to fathom the meaning of unusual tremors to which they are
subject. An occasional individual, however, goes beyond this and
uses the tremor as a guide to all important problems and as a key
to the solution of the perplexities of others who seek his advice.
In a time of emergency he appeals to this phenomenon and waits
for some sign to govern his actions. He may even have songs and
prayers which he directs to the muscular tremor in anticipation
of a reply.

P. believes in this more than in anything else on earth. He says he has lived
to an old age with it. When he gets a quivering in the muscle inside the legs, it's
very good. When it's on the outside of his legs, it's very bad. It's the same with
the arms. Before any important thing he intends to do, whether for himself or
for any of his friends in the tribe, or for the whole tribe, he has to ask his sign.
He has lived according to the direction of these signs.

I have heard him say, "The sign does not come on just to give you a sensa-
tion. It means something. Many of you don't believe in it. I believe in it and I
know the meaning of it. It has saved me trouble. Many a time, when I have had
a bad sign, I have waited for a good sign before doing something. I have prayed
for help to meet trouble when I have been warned. Then I wait for an answer. I
get my answer by getting a good sign. Then I go about my affairs." And I know
that he prays to Child of the Water and Life Giver about these signs.

190 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

This elaborate exploitation of muscular twitching and its use on
behalf of others departs from the mere reading of diagnostic
signs and impinges upon the realm of true ceremonialism.

"The dream and muscular tremor are about the same. They
both tell the truth, whether good or bad." The implication is
that specific dreams or types of dreams convey definite mean-
ings. This, indeed, is the case, and the most common dream ele-
ments upon which there is general agreement are contained in
the following summary:

To dream of fire is bad. If you dream of fire, the only thing to do to prevent
something bad from happening is to get up right away and start a fire. This
takes its place. It rubs it out. I did this down at my old home. I dreamed of a
big fire. It was the middle of the night, but I got up, went down to the ditch with
boxes, and fired them.

I got sick a few years ago. Before this happened I dreamed of my house.
There was a big fire near it. It came close to the house and blackened one side of
it. Now my one side is no good. If I had dreamed that the whole house burned,
I'd be gone today.

To dream of water, of water overflowing, is just as bad. And there is no way
to fix it when you dream of a big flood. I got sick before L. did. So he came to
me and put pollen on me and prayed for me. He came and stayed with me that
night. During the night I woke up. He was making noises and having a night-
mare. He woke up and told me what it was about. He said, "I dreamed that a
big flood of water came down the canyon. It came under my bed and washed me
away." He died a little later. Fire and water are no good to dream of!

To dream of losing teeth is another thing. It is as bad as anything. And if
you dream that buffaloes, bulls, or any kind of hoofed animals are running after
you, it is bad. Something bad is going to happen to you then. I dreamed of that
just before I got sick and I am not well yet. They say that, soon after you dream
this, sickness is coming around you.

Dreams about yourself mean the opposite. If you dream you are going to be
sick, that means you are going to stay well. If you dream that you are well, it's
not good. I dreamed that I was well. That's why I stay the same way. If you
dream that a snake bites you, that's good. It won't happen. If you dream that
you die, it means that you will live a long time. If you dream that your father,
mother, brother, or sister dies, it doesn't mean that one. It means that someone
outside the family is going to die.

If you dream about summer, about everything green, about things growing
and fruits and pollen, everything is all right.

In this quotation the speaker fails to include certain dreams
that are consistently held to be most unfortunate, namely,

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 191

dreams of the dead and of their return.1 But from other sources
this omission (owing perhaps to fear of dwelling upon such a
dangerous topic) is repaired. "If you see a dead person in your
sleep, you're not going to last long," said one informant. So
feared are such dreams that special precautions are often taken
to prevent them: "Clothing, especially moccasins and hats,
should not be put above or under the pillow or about the head of
the bed at night, for this causes dreams about ghosts."

The importance attached to dreams other than these varies
from individual to individual:

Some people are very much guided by dreams. Some people are recognized as
very true dreamers. But I have just ordinary dreams. All my dreams are about
raids: I am always running away from Mexicans. I also dream a great deal
about dances. I am always in there dancing. I recognize a Mescalero woman in
there, and I am always dancing with her. Sometimes I am standing there and I
wonder, "Why doesn't someone dance with me?"

My dreams run on the order of war. Long ago the government had Western
Apache scouts to track down the Chiricahua. I dream that they are making a
raid on my people. I am trying to get away from them. I climb into a tree, and
then I always wake up.

Still another commentator disclaimed any reliance on dreams
for himself. "I can dream plenty of things, some good and some
bad, and I don't pay any attention to them." But this same man
admitted that the dream could act as a vision experience and
guardian spirit for others, whom he called dream shamans, say-
ing:

We must be dream shamans, like P., to know what these dreams mean. Only
the one who knows, who gets a vision with it, is all right. You can get more of
this from P. He's an old man. He's about the oldest man here. He believes his
dreams are true. When he dreams about the peccary, it means something bad.
When he dreams about deer, it means something good.2

1 There are two kinds of "death dreams." To dream of the death of living
persons is made psychologically acceptable by interpreting it to mean the op-
posite. But dreams of the return or the sight of the dead are among the most
harrowing of experiences.

2 It is interesting that the good omen, deer, an animal much sought by the
hunter, should be contrasted with the peccary, an animal that most Chiricahua
will not taste.

i92 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Fortunately, the dream shaman to whom reference is made
has given an account of his powers :

I have been guided during my entire life by dreams. They have helped me
against sickness and against danger. My first dream came when I was but eight
years old. In those days there were few white men here and no such thing as a
railroad. I dreamed that I was riding on a black cloud. When I awoke in the
morning, I said nothing, but I always remembered the dream. When the railroad
came, I knew that it must have been a train on which I had ridden in my dream.
This was a prophecy, and, although it was my first dream and very long ago, I
have always remembered it.

I never think about dreaming before I go to sleep. The dreams always come
unawares, and, whenever there is danger ahead, I dream a warning. Whenever
someone is sick, I dream of what plant to use as medicine. In case of danger I
used to see the enemy leader face to face, and he would tell me when the battle
was to occur. In sickness I would actually see the plants to use. All my dreams
have come true. I consider myself lucky and ascribe my present age to dream
help. I have been in many battles, but my dreams have told me what to do, and
so I have never been wounded. I tell my close friends about my dreams and help
them too. I must be a shaman or I couldn't dream this way.

I can dream and see who is a witch too. Once at Fort Sill, in a dream I saw a
bunch of men walking along over rocks and chewing them like bread. I knew
they must be witches, because who else would chew rocks? I couldn't recognize
the men because their backs were toward me, but I knew they were Chiricahua.

The most vivid dream I have had occurred when I was traveling with a group.
One night I dreamed that there was a great number of soldiers coming from the
east. Their leader rode at the front of the troop and came directly up to me. I
asked the leader where his men were going, and the soldier answered that they
were coming right to the point where the Chiricahua were, that they had orders
and had to come. The leader spoke his own language, but I understood never-
theless. That ended the dream, and I awoke.

The next day, in the morning, we saw a large group of soldiers coming from
the east. Before they got near we mounted and rode to a near-by mountain.
From the mountain we watched the soldiers and noticed that they stopped right
where our own camp had been. They made camp and stayed until noon. So
everyone saw that my dream came true. The soldiers were too many, so we
didn't attack them. Besides, the leader didn't tell me in the dream that we
would fight; otherwise there certainly would have been a battle.

The last dream I had was about my grandson. He had been to school and had
caught tuberculosis, and, when they thought he wouldn't live, they sent him
back here. They took him to the place where his other grandfather lived. At
that time I lived there too.

I prayed for the boy every night for a week. After the week was over, I had a
dream. I dreamed that a huge deer was approaching the place where the boy lay.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 193

It came from the east and kept approaching him, then backing away, approach-
ing again, and backing up, and kept doing this.3 I tried to chase the deer away
with a stone, but it wouldn't leave. After the dream, the boy began to get well at
once. I believe that, when I dream about a deer acting in such a manner, the sick
one begins to get well and is safe. After the boy began to rise from his bed I kept
praying for him, and he got better and better. He regained his appetite and got
well.

Not only does this man use his own dreams for revealing the
future and for curing but he is consulted when someone who is
not a dream shaman has a disagreeable dream: "Not long ago
D. had a bad dream, and since that time he has been meeting
with P., and P. has been singing for him."

Not all persons who enjoy a special knowledge of dreams use
them on behalf of clients:

I am guided by dreams. That is the only reliable information. I get special
knowledge and wisdom in dreams. It is the power of the dream that carries me
away and shows me the truth. Other people do not generally know about my
power. It is just personal with me. I do not give general advice.

Still, this man's dreams served more than purely individual
interests when he learned through them that his brother was in
danger:

A long time ago I had a dream telling me that my brother and I were going to
be killed in the morning at the time the sun is up just a little and things warm up.
The dream told me that the troops were close and that a certain man was causing
evil influence over us [sorcery] and was going to cause us to be killed in battle.
The way to avoid it, I was told, was to go off before sunset to a spot where the
sun, when it rises, first strikes a certain hill. During the dream it seemed that
someone was shaking me by the hair and trying to rouse me.

I awoke, went over to my brother who was camping near by, and told him
about it. My brother said, "No, I don't believe in these dreams. I have dreamed
pretty bad things myself, and often thought I was going to be killed, but I always
came out all right." I pleaded with my brother, but it did no good.

I went back to my camp, and my wife went over to my brother and advised
him to do as I directed. But my brother told her, "No, he is just dreaming; that's
all."

I went up to the place alone and did what had been directed in the dream. I
walked in the sunlight to all the directions, beginning with the east and moving
sunwise. Then I prayed a little and went back. Soon the enemy came and the
battle started. My brother and another man were the only ones killed.

3 The masked dancers use this same technique in curing (see p. 274).

i94 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

COSMOLOGY AND SUPERNATURALS

Ritual, poetry, and prayer often refer to the time "when the
earth was new" or "when the earth was created," yet there is no
tale that describes the event. Parents, in talking with their
children, credit Life Giver with the creation of the universe, but
they offer no details and expect that faith in this deity will be
later supplemented by interest in some more concrete manifesta-
tion of supernatural power.

Ideas concerning the relations of the earth, the heavenly bod-
ies, and the forces of nature are often associated with personal
supernatural power or. with folk beliefs:

We did not discuss whether the world was round or flat. The old people used
to say that the sun is as large as a mountain. I think that the sun and moon are
in fixed position and that the heavens move. There are men who get power from
the sun. They have songs and prayers directed toward the sun. It is thought
that the sun goes into the sky at an eclipse. The moon does this too.

During the summer rainy season the sun has a moccasin string made of rotten
material, and it breaks and breaks. The constant rain makes it rotten. That is
why we have a long day; he cannot move fast. But during the winter the sun
uses yucca fiber for a moccasin string and goes pretty fast, for he does not have to
pause much to bother with his moccasins.

The moon is as big as the sun. Darkness interferes with the moon; therefore,
we do not get so much light from the moon. The stars are thought to be pretty
big too, as big as the moon or sun but set back farther. We notice that some are
fixed and some travel, but we do not distinguish the two kinds by name.

A sun shaman would know all about the sun. But I'm no authority. I can
only tell you what I've heard. I don't think that what I know amounts to much.
I know that different men are telling stories in different ways. They may say
that what I say isn't so. That's why I don't want to go into details.

Consultations with other members of the tribe revealed some
disagreements in details but left a similar impression of the un-
organized state of the cosmology.

Feminine qualities are attributed to the earth, and one in-
formant definitely stated, "The earth is thought of as a woman."
Moreover, in all ceremonial contexts the earth is called by a term
that is said to mean "Earth Woman."4 But, except to a few

4 Dr. Hoijer claims that he cannot analyze the word to give this meaning
literally and says that it is an instance of folk etymology.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 195

shamans who obtain supernatural power from our planet, the
earth is not personified, nor does it appear as a supernatural in
the myths.

What attention is given to the sun, stars, and constellations
by those who do not claim supernatural power from them is for
the practical purpose of computing the passage of time and the
change of seasons.

Much more determinate is the place of thunder (or lightning) :

This is what I have heard about the lightning and thunder. I don't know
what kind of people they are, but they are people. My parents and even older
people used to tell me that they were just like humans in appearance. Some of
them are good people and some are bad, just as people are here on earth. A good
thunderstorm passes over with a good time for all. It does no harm; no one gets
struck. But the bad ones go along hitting people, knocking down trees and de-
stroying things. They say that the homes of these people are in the clouds.
Thunder People is what they call them.

Lightning is the arrow of the Thunder People. I hear ceremonial songs, and
in them they mention the "arrows of lightning." Not in my father's time or my
grandfather's time did the Chiricahua make arrowheads of flint that were good
to kill anything with. The flints they used are found around and are called
"lightning's arrow" or "thunder's arrow." Some people say that they were made
by men, but some Chiricahua say that flints like these are shot during a thunder-
storm by the Thunder People.

.... They are persons and you can get power from them. They have chil-
dren; they are just like regular people. Any of them can cause you to be struck

by lightning The Thunder People send lightning to punish some. Or, if

someone did something bad to a man who "knew" Thunder, he could send
lightning to avenge himself.

The flash is the flight of the "arrow," and the noise is the shouting of the real
person, the one who is back of lightning and thunder.

At one time, runs a tale, the Thunder People acted as hunters
for humans and with their arrows killed all the game the tribe
could use. Ingratitude moved them to withdraw their support.
It is important to court no risk of offending these well-armed
inhabitants of the sky:

During a thunderstorm we go, "pis, pis' " in imitation of the bird called pise
[nighthawk]. This bird, a speckled one, flies around on cloudy days near evening.
It swoops and darts around so fast that it is hard even for lightning to hit it.
Therefore, we use its call. It is just like making believe that we are that bird dur-
ing the lightning, and then it is hard for it to hit us too.

196 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Another thing to do when the lightning flashes is to make a spitting noise and
say, "Let it be well, my brother, Lightning," or to say, "Strike high, my
brother." Thunder you call grandfather when it hits close. When lightning is
very close and sounds just as if it is going to tear up the ground, you say:

"Continue in a good way;
Be kind as you go through;
Do not frighten these poor people;
My grandfather, let it be well;
Don't frighten us poor people."

Sickness induced by or through Thunder is frequent, and
special practices and curative rites have grown up to cope with
such disorders.

Through the mythology an association is established between
water and lightning. In most versions of the birth of the culture
hero, his mother is impregnated by Water, but in one variant
Lightning strikes at the divine woman four times and thus
causes her to conceive Child of the Water. Another version,
after describing the impregnation by Water, relates that Light-
ning tests the hero, discovers him to be his son, and later helps
him conquer a giant.

Another myth tells of a quarrel between Thunder and Wind
concerning their respective abilities. They separate, to the great
detriment of the earth. Finally a meeting is arranged, and, with
Sun as mediator, they agree to labor together once more. As an
aftermath:

The breathing of the thunder created four persons, and these were sent out in
the four directions, and they were told that, whenever the earth trembles, they
should come to the center. Lightning and Wind used their power to make the
earth as it was before, with green grass and the proper amount of water.

The existence of the earth, the heavenly bodies, and natural
forces sets the stage for the appearance of the animals of the
mythological period. These animals look and talk like men.
Coyote, usually a trickster with few redeeming qualities, turns
benefactor for a short interval by stealing fire from those who
have hoarded it and spreads it throughout the world. But, by
opening a bag which he has been told to leave untouched, Coyote
looses darkness. This is acceptable only to the night prowlers
and fierce animals; the birds and the small harmless creatures

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 197

desire daylight. The moccasin game — a game of the hidden-ball
variety — is arranged to determine whether day shall come; the
victors are to dispatch the vanquished. The side of the birds
wins, and the horizon to the east brightens. A few of the losers
escape — the snake, the owl, and the bear — and these are still
considered dangerous creatures.

During this epoch Coyote makes death inevitable for mankind
by throwing a stone into the water and declaring that, if it sinks,
living beings shall ultimately die. Coyote's behavior during this
prehuman horizon creates a "path" that man has been obliged to
follow. All that man does "Coyote did first." Gluttony, lying,
theft, adultery, incest, and all the other faults and foibles were
introduced by Coyote and have become inescapable for those
who "follow Coyote's trail."

Next are introduced White Painted Woman, Child of the
Water, and Killer of Enemies. White Painted Woman has ex-
isted from the beginning. Killer of Enemies' place in the time
sequence is less certain; he is variously described as a brother of
White Painted Woman, an older son, a twin brother of Child of
the Water, and even, in one variant, as the husband of White
Painted Woman and therefore the stepfather of the culture hero.
In the most representative versions he appears as an older broth-
er of Child of the Water, already grown when the culture hero is
born.

During this period White Painted Woman and Killer of Ene-
mies share the earth with human beings and with monsters who
prey upon the human beings and prevent them from thriving.
One of them, a giant, carries his depredations to White Painted
Woman herself and consumes a number of children she attempts
to rear. Finally she is impregnated by Water and gives birth to
Child of the Water, who is protected from Giant by being hidden
under the earth and by other stratagems. Child of the Water
grows with miraculous speed, and soon the brothers are prepared
to hunt together. On the hunt they encounter Giant, and Child
of the Water slays his colossal foe. This is the first adventure of a
series during which he destroys the other monsters: the giant
eagles, the dangerous buffalo bull, and the antelope which can

198 AN APACHE I^IFE-WAY

kill with its glance. Child of the Water forces those he conquers
to agree to be of use to man henceforth. From the feathers of the
monster eagle he creates the birds which exist today. Once the
survival of mankind is guaranteed, the supernaturals prepare to
leave for sky homes. But first White Painted Woman and Child
of the Water instruct the Chiricahua in the girl's puberty rite,
and Killer of Enemies frees the game animals from an under-
ground "animal home" in which they have been kept by Crow.

As a result of Christian influence and white contact, certain
accretions to this world- view have taken place. One of these is a
story of a flood. This theme has been incompletely synchronized
with other mythological events. Some informants place it before
the moccasin game and the existence of human beings; others say
it occurred after the creation of man. Some are inclined to omit
it altogether.

The tale of the creation of man is another episode which seems
to have been recently added. In keeping with the feeling that
actual deeds are to be attributed to the culture hero rather than
to Life Giver, it is said that Child of the Water shaped people
from mud or produced them from a cloud. Giving this super-
natural the role of creator imposes its difficulties, however, for in
the most stable portions of the mythology he is said to have been
brought forth to rid the earth of the monsters which were harry-
ing mankind. Consequently, the creation story rarely becomes
an integral part of the account of the exploits of the culture hero.

According to one tale, Child of the Water creates the white
man at the same time as the Indian. In the division of the goods
of the earth, Child of the Water chooses for the Indian (the Chiri-
cahua), and Killer of Enemies for the white man — the former
selecting the bow and arrow, the forested mountains, and the
wild foods; the latter choosing mineral-rich lands, the gun, and
agricultural food staples. In keeping with this pattern of Indian-
white representation, Killer of Enemies is uniformly considered
the less heroic of the two brothers and is actually described as
craven on occasion.

Missionary teachings concerning the importance of the Bible
have been registered in the folklore too. A man, sometimes
named Herus (perhaps a corruption, through the Spanish, of

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 199

Jesus), comes into possession of a book. Its loss will result in the
captivity and misfortune of his people. At his death the book is
burned, according to custom, with the rest of his possessions,
and the dire results foretold come to pass. Stories of this man
and of another who followed him and had a like adventure
(Kantaneiro)5 have a distinctly biblical flavor.

There are two other sets of supernaturals — the Mountain
People and the Water Beings. The Mountain People are of
more importance than any supernaturals so far mentioned, with
the possible exception of Child of the Water and White Painted
Woman. They are not mentioned in the stories of the period when
the animals spoke like people but appear in a separate series.

There are people in the mountains who are just like us. They are not masked
dancers, but they make masked dancers just as we do here. Those they make can
take off their masked-dancer costumes and dress as we do. We hear the people
drum in there and we hear the masked-dancer performance too. We hear words
in there when we listen at cliffs or mountains, but we can't see the people. We
call all these people in there Mountain People. They live in these mountains and
have many children. There are girls, boys, women, and old men there. The real
masked dancers are the masked dancers of these people.6

Two kinds of Water Beings are mentioned. One, a beneficent
supernatural, is called Controller of Water:

He is some man, not of this earth. He is the one who controls the water. I
hear of him in the songs, the ceremonial songs. In those songs and in prayers
they talk of Water Controller who sits at the water gate and stops the water.
They hold up their hands and sing, "Controller of Water, please give us a little
water." He lives up above somewhere. He is only mentioned in the ceremonies
that belong to different people. Some sing that his shirt is of clouds of different
colors. Some say that he wears a shirt of abalone.

He holds the rain. He lets it loose or shuts it off. You sing to him if you know
his song. If people believe and learn his song, they can get rain.

5 In 1909 M. R. Harrington, who was gathering specimens from Chiricahua
Indians in Oklahoma for the museum expedition supported by Mr. George G.
Heye, obtained a story which associated Kantaneiro with the Mountain Spirits
(see M. R. Harrington, "The Devil Dance of the Apaches," Museum Journal
[Philadelphia], March, 1912, pp. 6-9).

6 The name "Mountain People" will be used to refer to the total population of
mountain-dwelling supernaturals; the term "Mountain Spirits," to those of the
Mountain People who act as dancers. It is the Mountain Spirits who are im-
personated by the masked dancers of the Chiricahua.

200 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

More feared is Water Monster, who sometimes appears in
human form and sometimes as a large serpent. He is responsible
for drownings, and "when anything disappears at the water, they
suspect Water Monster." "He is a swallowing monster. He
would just swallow people up, and they'd disappear. There is a
spring near here where they say there is a Water Monster. At
Whitetail there is a spring like this. Even horses go there and
never come out."

THE SHAMAN AND POWER

The personnel of shafnanism. — In the great enterprise of traffic
with the supernatural there is no hierarchy of religious leader-
ship:

There were not a few shamans. Supernatural power is something that every
Chiricahua can share. Most of the people have some sort of ceremony, little or
big.

Shamans aren't ranked: each person knows a different thing, so no one is
better than another. If you have the ceremony for a certain thing, you have it;
that's all. If a shaman can't help you, he just can't cure you, and you get some-
one else.

One thing, like the power to make someone run fast, is enough to make you a
shaman. The possession of any ceremony makes a person a shaman. A little rite
makes you a shaman just as much as a long elaborate one.

Yet individuals whose cures are consistently spectacular and
whose prophecies are often verified do achieve more than average
renown :

Those well known for their ceremonial work were usually pretty well off.
They depended on ceremony for a livelihood to some extent, but they went along
on hunts and did all the work that the others performed too. When men came
back from raids with booty, they were given many gifts. People went out of their
way to help them.

At a time of strife the shaman whose ceremony pertains to the
thwarting of the enemy may gain markedly in prestige:

The shaman whose work has to do with war had a strong part in politics and
could rise to a position of power. But ordinarily a man with another ceremony is
just like anyone else. Geronimo got political power from the religious side. He
foresaw the results of the fighting, and they used him so much in the campaigns
that he came to be depended upon. He went through his ceremony, and he
would say, "You should go here; you should not go there." That is how he be-
came a leader.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 201

But it must not be overlooked that a person's supernatural
experiences are often conditioned by his special abilities. Those
who excel in warfare, for instance, are likely to attribute their
success to supernatural help and to seek evidence that their ac-
tions are divinely guided. There consequently takes place a con-
vergence of prowess in war and "power" for war.

Women are not barred from the acquisition of supernatural
power. "Women can have any power. I knew a woman who had
power from the Mountain People. She directed the making of
the dancers, just as any man does. She died at Fort Sill." Few
ceremonial privileges are denied to a woman. She may not im-
personate a Mountain Spirit or use the sweat lodge. But "there
are many women shamans, and they are as powerful as men.
Women are capable of conducting ceremonies on an equal footing
with men."

The time of the acquisition of supernatural power. — Mundane
knowledge alone is not considered a full guaranty of a satisfac-
tory life. "The Apache has help for everything against which he
has to contend." "We have shamans for all purposes. There is a
ceremony for nearly everything in life. There are ceremonies for
sickness, love, hunting, war, and so on. All these are recognized."

It is understandable, therefore, that every individual should
anticipate the time when he will gain strength beyond his own or
any human resource. The need for such assistance is sometimes
felt very early in life. It will be remembered that a dreamer to
whom reference has already been made placed the first dream to
which he attributed importance at about his eighth year.7 An-
other whose dream assumed ceremonial significance likewise ex-
perienced it during childhood:

When I was a young boy, I had this experience and I was told that I would
live to be an old man. Old age was promised to me, and I got it. The power told
me, "You shall see your country again, but you shall be alone." I have lost my
family, all except two boys. The power told me, "When you get old, you can tell
about the ceremony." That is why I tell you this.

In another account two children, "a girl about seven years old
and a boy a little bigger," acquire power.

7 See p. 192.

202 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Despite these several instances, to obtain a ceremony before
or at the age of puberty is the exception rather than the rule.
Since most children are without supernatural protection of their
own and are, furthermore, particularly susceptible to certain
kinds of "evil influence," their parents and other close relatives
assume responsibility for them and provide them with amulets,
arrange crisis rites, and hire shamans for them when necessary.

But whether or not an individual has formerly been concerned
about supernatural aids, he seldom ignores them after he enters
into the marriage relationship, for now he must afford super-
natural protection to others, just as it was provided for him.
Time after time, when supernatural power approaches someone
and asks what is desired, the person is represented as replying,
"Something good for my children in this world," or, "Something
to help my family."

Encounters with supernatural power, then, can occur at al-
most any moment in an individual's life, but relations with
power and the use of power are essentially adult pursuits, of im-
mediate survival and social value to the newly married in their
hope for a stable and fecund union.

Supernatural power obtained by direct experience. — No matter
how eager a man is to acquire a ceremony, the first gesture is al-
ways attributed to the power, for power requires man for its
complete expression and constantly seeks human beings through
whom "to work."

It seems that these powers select for themselves. Perhaps you want to be a
shaman of a certain kind, but the power doesn't speak to you. It seems that,
before power wants to work through you, you've got to be just so, as in the
original time. You've got to believe in things as in the old days and carry every-
thing out.

Not only does power come unbidden but it has more than one
way of making itself manifest:

Some hear it; the power speaks to them. Power usually comes in a voice to
the one who is getting a ceremony. The songs and words are from the power that
gives the ceremony. A person doesn't fast or prepare for it. It comes on him.
Sometimes it appears to a person in a vision. F.'s vision went around the dwell-
ing like a blessing.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 203

Solemn obligations and even serious dangers attend the ac-
ceptance of supernatural power. Therefore, the first meeting
with the power source is often a testing of opposing forces.

Suppose I was going to become a shaman tonight. The power would have
many ways of letting me know. I would have to meet the power and follow its
directions. It might say, "Well, S., you get up on that mountain over there
about noon. I will let you know just what I want you to do."

It's just like anything else; flattery has to come in with this power. This
power will be boasting about me. It will say, "I can't find a better man than you
are. I like your ways. There are many men here, but I can't find a better one.
You are the very person for me. I want to give you something to live by through
this world, because you will meet with many difficulties. This ceremony from me
will help you, and you will live well. I will speak to you up on the mountain to-
morrow at a certain time. Have nobody with you. Come by yourself."

I might get this message right in my own camp. It doesn't have to come when
I'm sleeping. I might be wide-awake. They say the power sometimes wakes you
up when it wants to speak to you.

I might reply to the power when it comes, "I'm a poor fellow, and there are
many other people here good enough for that. Let me alone. I don't want your
ceremony." .... It is said that some fellows have done that. They claim it is
more dangerous to take it than to refuse it sometimes. They say some power
might help you nicely for several years and then begin a lot of trouble. You
might have to sacrifice your friends. Then if you refuse you might get killed
yourself.

But, if I am not afraid and am interested in this power and this ceremony, I
will go up the next morning. Then it will appear in the form of a person or as a
spirit. "Well," it will say, "you will be a shaman and have power from the sun."

Before this I don't know what the rules of sun power are. There may be some
rules that I may not like. I may not be the person who can agree with it. So it
tells its plans to me, how good it will be for me and how much it likes me, and I
have to decide.

Disinterest or sorrow, as well as distrust concerning the "good-
ness" of the power, may also act as grounds for refusal:

At Fort Sill there was a man whose eldest son died. Shortly afterward the
father was sitting by a campfire and something sat with him. It spoke with him
and told him it had come to tell him something. He asked who it was, and it told
him it was Buzzard. Buzzard told him to consider what he was being told, that it
wanted to give him power so that he would be able to see things that otherwise
he could not see. He was promised that he would be wise and would know every-
thing going on in the world and that he could find anything lost if he took this
power.

The man refused to accept this power. He said, "If you were going to give me

2o4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

your power, why didn't you come before my boy died? I needed it then; I suf-
fered. Now I have nothing to live for. Your power is of no use to me now."
And he told Buzzard to go back to the place from which he came. Then Buzzard
disappeared.

But in most instances the offers of supernatural power are
accepted. The source of power may approach in a dream or, if
the person is ill or overwrought, in a vision. But dreams of the
acquisition of power are not classified with ordinary dreams and,
indeed, are not interpreted as dreams at all. Of the experience
with the buzzard just recounted, the informant said, "This was
no dream either, because a man can tell the difference." If a per-
son is asleep when supernatural power attempts to contact him,
he considers that the power awakens him and that what follows
is a real occurrence.

Power first makes its presence known by the spoken word, by
some sign, or by appearing in the shape of some bird or super-
natural. Whatever its first guise, it later assumes a human-like
form and converses with the chosen individual. If the person ap-
proached is responsive, the details of the ceremony which he is
thereafter to conduct are revealed to him, usually at the super-
natural home of the power, within or near some well-known
landmark.

This "holy home" is of the greatest religious significance to the
shaman. He describes its beauty and wonder in the story he tells
his patients of the origin of his rite and sings of it in his songs. It
is a concrete evidence of his experience. If he feels that his power
is dissatisfied with him or that it is deserting him, he journeys to
this place to pray and to receive some reassuring sign.

The first trip to the holy home is the means, often, by which
the power tests the faith of the novice and determines whether he
is the kind of an individual through whom it should work.
Frightful animals guard the portals through which the candidate
is conducted; insecure bridges, steep inclines, and forbidding
elders challenge his way. But, if desire for a ceremony is strong
enough, he reaches the very center of the power's abode and
gains the knowledge for which he has come.

Here are revealed to him the songs, prayers, and ritual ges-

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 205

tures of a ceremony. He learns what functions the rite can per-
form, what ceremonial presents to request from those in whose
behalf it is exercised, what restrictions to impose on patients,
what design elements, what paraphernalia, what sacred sub-
stances to employ. He may be advised to wait a certain number
of months or years, or until he receives some signal from his
power before using the ceremony. Therefore, "even a man's wife
may not suspect he knows the ceremony" until the auspicious
moment arrives.

After the ceremony has been learned and the understanding
with the power source has been established, the new shaman is
conducted to the point from which he started, or he finds himself
suddenly transported there.

The nature and sources of supernatural power. — Supernatural
power is, in the largest sense, the animating principle of the uni-
verse, the life-force. Again and again, shamans have terminated
a discussion of the authenticity of power by exclaiming, "It is
alive! It speaks to me!"

Since it is the office of beneficial supernatural power to per-
petuate life, it must find ways in which to heal, warn, and guard
mankind. These mediums are the familiar channels — the ani-
mals, the birds, the personified supernaturals, and others. The
manner in which some of these channels themselves contribute to
life and health is self-evident. Venison is a staple necessary to
maintain life. Therefore, supernatural power working through
the personified essence of the deer is a logical source of a cere-
mony to make the deer obedient to human needs. Or, since the
mountain lion is a mighty hunter, power obtained by contact
with the personification of this animal may be useful to the same
end.

But the maintenance of well-being is not alone a matter of
procuring food. Inimical forces and creatures must be counter-
acted. When, for instance, someone has been bitten or fright-
ened by a snake, a snake shaman is hired to use a ceremony de-
rived from a supernatural experience with Snake to force the
reptile to repair the damage it has wrought. This lends a home-
opathic flavor to the ritual practices, in which a snake ceremony

206 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

is expected to cure snake sickness, a horse ceremony is used for
anyone thrown from a horse, and a deer rite is employed to bring
luck in the hunt. However, the horse shaman may feel that his
ritual can do other things besides procuring new horses, finding
lost ones, and healing those injured in mishaps with horses. The
logic of some of these extensions is not always self-evident.

The medium through which supernatural power appears to a
person is always considered by him to be "alive" and capable of
active communication with him. But this does not mean that
only animate beings, in the ordinary sense of the word, are con-
sidered as possible sources of supernatural power. Any object or
force of the external world is potentially animate for the candi-
date for supernatural power. Moreover, some object which is
alive and communicative for one person need represent no such
qualities for another:

Some say that the earth talks to them. They get their ceremony from that.
Some say the wind has life. Some say the mountains, like the San Andreas, have
life. Anyone who gets power from it says, "That mountain talks to me." The
old people tell stories that show that all things have life — trees, rocks, the wind,
mountains. One believes that there is a cliff where the Mountain People stay and
that they open the cliff and talk to him. I have heard old men say that trees,
rocks, and mountains have life.

An instance of the latitude permitted in such assertions is the
case of a man who claimed to receive special knowledge from his
own anal flatulence. This evidently acted more as a sign, com-
parable to muscular tremor and the dream, than as a true cere-
mony. Yet a number of informants have seen in this man's abil-
ity a variety of supernatural power. At any rate he is alleged to
have used it in games of chance.

In spite of such novel developments, the revelations of power
tend to cluster about certain familiar animals, natural forces,
plants, and supernaturals.

There is no definite arrangement of powers in order of efficacy.
Power derived from "a little thing" — an insect, for instance —
may prove to be of inestimable value. And, since the effective-
ness of power depends so much upon the relations between the
shaman and the source, the same kind of power — from lightning,

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 207

let us say — may be considered appreciably stronger when
practiced by one person than when used by another.

The relation between the shaman and his power source. — The
prayers, songs, and material elements of a ceremony are not in
themselves effective, and the simulation of power is most haz-
ardous:

I might make headdresses the way my father does and imitate him, but I
wouldn't have his ceremony. It wouldn't do me any good. I couldn't cure any-
body with it, not even myself if I was dying.

Power is dangerous if you try to use it and don't know how. Then you go
crazy and jump into the fire or jump off a cliff or stab yourself or lose yourself so
that you die wandering around the mountains.

A certain man's wife was jealous because he danced with a girl at the social
dances. She used a ceremony on him so that he would never dance with this girl
again. But she had never learned this ceremony properly. It was her father's
ceremony, and she imitated what she had heard, but she didn't know enough to
do it right, and her husband went crazy.

The ritual details are important not because they cure in
themselves but because the power, as soon as a shaman begins
his rite, is expected to recognize its own songs and prayers and to
honor its pledges. Often, after the opening events of a ceremony,
a shaman will pause for some word or sign and then reassuringly
tell his audience, "My power hears me."

In order to maintain the good will of his power, the shaman
must observe its rules. The person who fails to live up to his part
of the power relationship agreement runs the risk of alienating
the power and inviting retaliation.

The old men told us that if the power likes you and wants you, when you take
up the ceremony you learn it fast. If power doesn't want you, you'll never learn
it. It is hard and there are often many rules. If you violate them, power gets
after you. It's like taking an oath. You take an oath to the power, and then, if
you break it, power gets after you and your family.

If a shaman makes a mistake, it won't affect him or his family. But the power
he represents gets after him and calls him down. "I never told you to do it that
way!" it says. Then the power gives him another chance. If the shaman always
makes mistakes, he may get sick and die, for the power gives him up. If you dis-
obey your power, something will happen to you. It is dangerous. A man who
does his ceremony wrong all the time might be killed when at war; his power
might let this happen.

208 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Power is bitterly resentful if its ceremony is conducted in a
slovenly or erroneous fashion, for this is evidence of little interest
and faith.

It must not be thought that a shaman is concerned with his
power only at times of ritual or when he is in communication
with his supernatural guardian. This relationship invades every
realm of interest and activity. One man, who has a ceremony
from Lightning, tends to interpret everything possible in terms
of it. He even sees a lightning symbol in the zigzag lacing of the
child's cradle, a point that no one else seems willing to concede.
Elsewhere I have indicated how the nature of a man's ceremony
and power source may even affect the manner in which he relates
traditional legends.8

In the course of a rite a constant interchange between the
power and the shaman takes place. "A shaman with masked
dancers does not paint them just the way he wants to. Every
time he wants to paint, a picture comes before his eyes and tells
him what to paint."

The shaman is the custodian of the songs and ritual with
which he has been intrusted. It is his obligation to see that they
are not inappropriately used. "If a man has a ceremonial song
and his power has told him to sing it a certain way, he doesn't
want anyone else to sing it, and he will tell him it's wrong if he
tries."

It not infrequently happens that the power and the shaman
discover that on some specific issue they have contrary aims or
interests:

The old people say that a shaman often falls out with his own power. Many
stories have been told about that, all of them true. After many years, the power
will ask some shamans to sacrifice some of their best friends or the very ones they
love best in the family. That's what they say.

There was one man who was a war shaman. He was well protected by his
power. Once he had his own group of men ready to go into battle. Usually before
going into battle, he would sing for his men and pray for them so that nobody
would get a wound. This time he was praying for his men who were going into
battle. All his warriors were sitting around him that night. He had never kept

8 "Three Types of Variation and Their Relation to Culture Change," in Lan-
guage, Culture, and Personality; Essays in Memory of Edward Sapir, pp. 146-57.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 209

anything about his ceremony secret from his warriors. He always told them,
"Go right in and fight. Nobody's going to get killed or shot. Go right in. That's
what my power says."

That night during his ceremony for the next day's battle his power told him,
"Tomorrow I'm going to take two of your very best men during the battle." It
called them by their names, the two best warriors.

So right there he told them, "You two men are to be killed tomorrow. That is
what my power says." Then he kept on with his ceremony. He was angry with
his power.

But his power said, "This must be done. I have helped you and have done
everything you asked for up to this time. Now you must do what I tell you."

This man answered his power, talking so loud that everybody heard it. They
say he waved his hand over his men to cover all of them. He said, "These men
and their families, I love every one of them. I want to see them as long as I live.
I will not let you have any of them. I will not agree with you. I must tell you
that right now." He was very angry.

His power said, "It must be done." And he told it, "It's not going to be
done!" He was fighting it.

The power told him again, "It must be done." And he said, "If you think it
must be done, take me. Then you can do whatever you want after that. Take
me first. If that's the kind of thing you want me to do, take your ceremony back
right now. I don't want it. I want to do only good things with it. When I have
to pay [you] men, I will not put up with it any longer."

I think this argument ended by the power's saying, "If you don't want any-
thing to happen, don't go into that battle tomorrow." The power is strong in
this story. That's the way the old people tell it.

Since the value of a ceremony depends so markedly upon the
intimate personal relations between the shaman and the super-
natural source, anything that interferes with the clarity of pur-
pose of the shaman gravely weakens the rite:

The only thing the old man told me was this: "The older you get, the weaker
you become with your ceremony. Your mind is weak. Your praying is mixed up.
You get the lines in the wrong order in the songs and prayers. Your voice is weak
in praying. Your voice is feeble and you can't sing as you used to. You can't
have a good vigorous talk with your power any more."

And because the efficacy of power is so completely linked with
this mutual confidence, any rupture of this relationship may re-
sult in the withdrawal of supernatural support from the shaman:

Sometimes the power of the shaman just goes, all at once. E. is a member of
the Central Chiricahua band. I knew him when I was a boy. I lived right in the
same place. He is my cousin (our fathers were brothers, sons of the same

210 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

mother). E. lost his power over twenty years ago. Maybe he misused it. Maybe
the power didn't want to use him any more. When they don't get any response
from the power during prayer or the ceremony, they know the power has gone.
If things are working well, a shaman will get a response to prayer; he will hear a

voice I know many people here who used to be shamans but are not now.

If power begins to weaken, nothing can be done about it; it just goes and can't be
kept strong.

Another informant, however, felt that waning power might be
restored to the shaman:

Any shaman, even if he has had strong power that spoke to him, may feel that
it has deserted him. Then he goes out to a lonely place and calls on his power.
He puts pollen on his forehead and chest and prays. He never tells what he says
to his power, but it may come back to him then.

The transmission of ceremony. — It is also possible to gain su-
pernatural power and a ceremony by learning it from another.
How can the transfer of power be reconciled with the emphasis
laid on the close association of the shaman with the power that
has spoken to him ? No inconsistency is involved; these two basic
methods of acquiring ceremonies have been skilfully blended in
theory and practice. To the question, "Could a man go to one
who had power and learn his power from him?" an elderly in-
formant replied:

That is hard. Wind said to lightning, "See that mountain over there. If I
want, I can split it in two pieces." Lightning answered him, "I also can split that
mountain in two pieces." They both had power to do the same thing, but the
power of the wind is not the power of the lightning. Neither is one man's power
the power of another man.

Still, if you go to an old man and this old man teaches you the observances
over and over, and if the man's supernatural power is pleased with you, you can
obtain the power that the old man has. But if the source of the old man's power
does not want you, nothing you can do will help. The old man goes out alone and
asks his power, and, if it is pleased, pollen is put in your mouth. Then, no matter
how many songs there are, you learn them all without difficulty.

He [the shaman] does not lose power by sharing it. But he usually does not
share it until he is too old to practice much longer or is going to quit.

The same subject is treated in another statement:

Many of the ceremonies are passed along. They go from father to son and

from one relative to another, although they can go to those who aren't relatives

too. About half the ceremonies in use are got in this way. But even if a person

wants to learn the power and the shaman is willing to teach him, often he cannot

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 211

remember the prayers. When a man is handing down power, if the one he is
teaching cannot learn the prayers and the rest of the ceremony in four days, it is
a sign that power does not want to come to him. But if the man learns easily, he
is the type of person for the work, it shows. It is not a thing that the shaman has
entire say about. He must consult the power, the source from which he gets his
ceremony. The shaman chooses, but it must please the power.

Of the final act of the transfer, it was said:

He told us we would have to stay up with him for four nights and learn it.
Then the last night, the last thing he will do is to put pollen in our mouths four
times, and the fourth time the power will come to us.

Since the power could have rejected him, the student feels
that he has been approved. The power, pleased with the new
incumbent, appears to him, speaks to him, and performs all the
services for him that it rendered his instructor. One who has
learned a ceremony, if he is a more forceful and religiously
minded person, may actually come to know the power better
than his predecessor.

Sometimes the shaman who teaches another his ceremony
does not insist on payment. More often, some payment is re-
quired or, nevertheless, proffered. In learning some ceremonies,
the person "in training" must submit during the period of in-
struction to certain food and behavior restrictions. "If the new
shaman does not follow the rules laid down by his instructor, he
will lose the power."

There is no obligation to accept instruction from a shaman
who is eager to give it. "I was approached by a man a long time
ago who wanted to transfer his power to me. I told him, 'No, I
am afraid of it.' Sometimes a person will want to hand down a
ceremony, but no one will take it because it is so dangerous."

Personality differences of shamans. — Some individuals are def-
initely "ceremonial people." They claim the right to conduct a
number of rituals obtained by personal vision experience, by in-
struction, or in both ways. "R. has all sorts of power in different
ways; he's just full of it," was a remark made of one man. Of
another great shaman, his son said:

My father knew Goose, Bear, Wolf, Lightning, and many other things. When
he received his power, the last man in the cave [holy power home] said, "All these
are under you."

212 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

I never knew how many things my father did know. He said to me once, "I
can't tell you. I'd like you to know it all, but some things I cannot tell. I could
take you where I went in the cave, but you might not 'make' it." And he
laughed.

The possibility of multiple powers leads to interesting ramifi-
cations. One shaman, after some reverses, may decide that two
of his powers are hostile toward each other, and he may feel
obliged to discontinue the use of one of them. Another may be
assured that his power source and another "work well together"
and so may attempt to secure a complementary rite. One in-
formant felt, for instance, that "Wind and Thunder go to-
gether," and he organized his own ritual life in terms of this
precept.

Personality differences and differences in interest are sharply
evident. "Often men have more than one power. Some fellows
have many; some just don't care about it at all. Several men
may know the same thing, and one may know several things."
Very nearly all adults are eager for supernatural guidance, but
many see in their power merely a personal monitor or carry on
ceremonies for the benefit of their immediate families only.

Some are suspected of having this power or that but refuse to
give any satisfaction to their questioners. The power itself may
have forbidden revelation of the connection or may have advised
that the knowledge be withheld for a certain time. Consequent-
ly, curiosity about undeclared power is always rife. A newly
worn feather or amulet arouses all kinds of speculation. A favor-
ite device, when a person is suspected of ceremonial knowledge
which he has not divulged, is to discuss the matter with him
when his inhibitions are at low ebb. In a case of this kind "the
man gave away the fact of his power while he was drunk, and the
other got him to perform the ceremony for him."

Sometimes, to help a friend or a relative, a person who thinks
his rite might prove effective reluctantly "gives himself up."
One man performed a snake ceremony before a selected group
but asked them to say nothing about it. When I interviewed
him, he pleaded profound ignorance of the snake rite. Since I
could not very well confess that he had been betrayed to me,
there was no way to elicit the desired data.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 213

Theoretically, no shaman is obliged to accept a call for as-
sistance that he does not wish to honor. In practice, however, it
is very difficult to turn away the sick person or his relatives, par-
ticularly if the request is attended by a prescribed ceremonial
gesture, is expressed in language of great humility, or if relation-
ship terms are employed in the asking.

An individual who shows initial reluctance to demonstrate his
ceremonial knowledge may achieve signal success as a result of
his first public venture. He is then likely to lose his shyness and
to accept cases at frequent intervals. There are others who are
more than willing to earn the rewards that come to a successful
practitioner. They wear conspicuously amulets suggestive of
their power and are ready to tell about their vision experiences
and their ceremonial triumphs. They accept any reasonable case
and make of their rituals a dramatic display.

The functions of supernatural power. — Besides its general func-
tion as a guardian spirit, the most frequent use of supernatural
power is in the diagnosis and treatment of disease. There is no
separate class of diagnosticians or shamans who consult their
power solely to learn the cause of illness and the identity of an-
other practitioner to cope with it. But sometimes "a shaman
can tell you beforehand whether he can do you any good." If
there is doubt concerning the cause of the sickness and the
pertinence of a particular ceremony, a pragmatic attitude is
assumed :

Both R. and A. sang for me. They kept singing because they did not know
what I got sick from. If what they know is the right thing, it cures it. R. sang
lightning songs, for he knows that too. He sang for nine days. It usually lasts
four days, but if you don't know what a man is sick from, you keep on until you
find out sometimes.

During the curative rite, when the shaman is receiving in-
struction from his power source concerning the best method to
combat the sickness, he often obtains additional information.
Some of it is of a prophetic nature, picturing the future state and
fortunes of his patient. This is considered cogent material to in-
troduce, especially if it suggests that the sick person will recover.
Sometimes the predictions shed light on the affairs of some of the
onlookers too. This acts as testimony to the effectiveness of the

2i4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

power and to the close understanding the shaman has with it.
Such prophecy has its therapeutic function, too, for the religious
zeal of all present is important in the successful outcome of any
rite.

Supernatural experiences often bring to those who undergo
them special abilities and techniques which may be used quite
apart from any rite. It is not unusual to hear that a person pos-
sesses great bodily strength because his ceremony comes from
Bear, that one who ''knows" Bat is an excellent horseman, or
that a man's speed and endurance date from his acquisition of
power from Goose. It is often claimed that one who knows sun
and moon power is able to look down upon distant events. Of a
certain man, it was said: "When he went a long distance, he sang
a song. In it were the words 'Near, near.' Then he got there soon-
er. He had songs for going a long distance and a short distance."

Another office of supernatural power is to bring success — suc-
cess in war and raid, in hunting, in love, in games, and in many of
life's endeavors. The degree to which it has guided his efforts to
acquire stock and to deal with the enemy was related by one man:

Power told me that I was to get something if I went out on the raid. If I go
out and look for something, my power gives me the ability to get horses and
mules. The power sends me out and tells me, "You are going to get this."

My power told me that the enemy was coming. It told me, "If you want the
enemy to see you, they are going to see you. If you want to see the enemy, you
will see them. If you don't want to meet the enemy, they will swing around the
other way."

The location of lost persons and lost or hidden objects is an
important service performed by supernatural power. Usually
power guides the shaman's hand in the direction of the object or
person to be discovered. The ceremonial procedure, designated
"it moves the arms about," is employed also in locating a foe.
Usually the shaman stands, praying and singing, with arms ex-
tended, while the supernatural power moves him in the fateful
direction. In ceremonies to find missing persons shamans use ar-
ticles of clothing belonging to the one sought. Songs, prayers, or
ritual acts carried on over the garments exert a controlling in-
fluence on the lost individual.

There are other ceremonial means of finding the enemy:

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 215

A shaman who got his power from a star could locate the enemy by making a
cross of ashes on his left hand and holding it up to the star, the morning star.
This was much used in war. Sometimes the cross was traced in pollen, or abalone
shell was held aloft in the hand. Then a flash of lightning in the direction of the
enemy appeared.

Fugitives can be found and halted by ceremonial methods too :

A young man killed his wife and ran away. Her relatives were looking for
him. Finally they found his track. They brought a ceremonial man to it. "I'll
make him come back," he said. He knelt down, put pollen on the man's track,
and prayed and sang. Then he put his hand in the track and turned it. "He
can't get away. He will be back," he said. In two days this boy came to his
stepfather's camp. They were waiting for him and caught him.

Of great consequence is the function of power in weakening
the enemy and in providing invulnerability from attack:

One time they all saw the enemy coming, and the enemy saw them. The
shaman said to the people, "I am going to make them disappear, and we shall
disappear from their view also." Then he told the people to go behind a hill so
they couldn't see the enemy. He alone stood on top of the hill.

After about twenty minutes the shaman told them all to come up again.
When they came up, there were only cattle grazing around where the enemy had
been. The shaman told the men to herd the cattle, drive them to the river, and
shoot them and eat them there.

When it became apparent that the Mexicans and Americans
were menacing invaders, the ceremonies to influence the enemy
were extended to cope with them:

C. was going into Chihuahua. He wanted to go to a certain Mexican town.
He knew the ceremony of Cloud and started to perform it. Cloud told him not to
use it but to use the ceremony to influence the enemy which he also knew. So he
did. Then he went right into the town.

The mayor was surprised to see him come. "Aren't you afraid? Don't you
know we kill all of you Indians?" he asked C. "I'm not afraid. What should I be
afraid of? I have done nothing against you," C. replied. And no harm came to
him.

. . . . K. got into some trouble. He had to run away to Oklahoma. He came
back afraid, for the agent had said he would fix him when he got hold of him. So
he hired a woman to pray for him and influence the white man.

She walked up the road behind him praying. Then she said, "All right, go
ahead and see the agent." Then she turned off the road. K. went right on to the
office. The agent did not seem angry with him. In fact, he was glad to see him.
It surely does influence them!

216 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Supernatural power further protects the warrior against his
enemies by making him invulnerable to their arrows and bullets.

The control of weather and natural events are other objectives
of ceremonialists:

There is a ceremony to bring rain when it is very dry. Then we get rain by
calling on White Painted Woman and Child of the Water. The world is White
Painted Woman. The thunder is Child of the Water. Sand, a whitish sand from
Old Mexico, is used in this ceremony to call the rain. It is blown to the four direc-
tions. Also Lightning is called on when the sand is blown, and a blowing noise,
"Hoo, hoo!" is made. In the prayer there is mention of the number of days it
should rain.

I have a ceremony which, if carried out on the desert, would cause a sand-
storm. But this would be uncomfortable for the people, and so I dislike to do it.
It is a prayer. I used it when men were going to make a raid for horses so that
they could get away without being detected. I throw sand into the air, blow
against it four times, say the prayer, and it causes sand to blow around so thick
that you can't see.

The length of day or night can also be controlled through
power:

When he was on the warpath, Geronimo fixed it so that morning wouldn't
come too soon. He did it by singing. Once we were going to a certain place, and
Geronimo didn't want it to become light before he reached it. He saw the enemy
while they were in a level place, and he didn't want them to spy on us. He wanted
morning to break after we had climbed over a mountain, so that the enemy
couldn't see us. So Geronimo sang, and the night remained for two or three
hours longer. I saw this myself.

MEDICAL PRACTICES

The nonritual treatment of ailments. — Though it is true that
most of the ceremonies deal with ill-health, it does not neces-
sarily follow that all sickness must be treated ceremonially. An
individual may become sick through surfeit or through want; he
may weaken himself by overexertion; he may suffer injury be-
cause of carelessness or needless daring. Advancing years bring
their infirmities; old age "can kill you." "There are several ail-
ments you can get by not taking care of yourself, by foolish-
ness— such things as tuberculosis and venereal diseases." Of
course, in any particular case, the reasoning may be reversed,
and a malevolent person or force may be blamed finally for the
trouble.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 217

For therapeutic purposes bloodletting is sometimes practiced
without any ceremony:

Bleeding is done to humans for pain in the arms or for rheumatism. A
skilled man is obtained to do it, not necessarily a shaman. He opens the vein on

the back of the hand. This is not done on the legs, but just on the arms

Old Man P. used to cut veins on people when their arms ached. Sometimes he
even cut a vein in the head.

Bloodletting is used for fatigue also, but to a limited extent:

Blood is sometimes drawn from the legs in order to relieve fatigue. We use
prickly-pear cactus or something with spines to draw the blood. I have done this
and got relief quickly.

The bone of a broken arm is set, and splints (flat pieces of
sotol wood) are bound on it with buckskin or rawhide strips.

Frostbite is treated with pitch and grease : "One of my relatives,
a man, froze the bottom of his foot. He took pitch [probably pinon
pitch] and grease, put them together, and rubbed them in. It is
good for it."

Massage is used for an illness said to be caused by a shift in the
position of the intestines:

When you get hungry or sick, your intestines come up toward your chest.
Then whoever is taking care of you should take something warm, rub you with it
and push the entrails down. When they go down to their place, take something
and tie it around the chest to keep them down. I did this a few days ago. I used
my belt. My wife rubbed me first. You can hear the intestines go down.

A buckskin truss which a ruptured man made for himself has
been described.

For rheumatism, grease and red ocher are mixed, warmed, and
tied over the aching spot. A stone or a shell is sometimes heated
and pressed on the painful joint. Such a stone or shell may also
be pressed to an aching ear or any paining spot.

To relieve a toothache: "S.'s mother uses the awl that she
makes moccasins with. She gets it hot and puts it in the hole in
the tooth."

Even sleepwalking is often dealt with naturalistically:

When a person has the habit of sleepwalking, they make him sleep with some-
one. They tie him to this one with a rope. Then he can't get away without wak-
ing the other up. I was this way, and they did it with me. They tied me to my
brother. One man was this way when we were in Old Mexico. He took a lance

2i 8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

and ran over a cliffin his sleep. Another fellow climbed up a tree. They called to
him, "What are you doing up there?" Then he woke up.

Despite these instances of the nonceremonial care of ailments,
a short account which contains a number of elements inspired by
ritual practices indicates how arbitrary is any division of the
religious and secular treatment of disease:

You can burn charcoal on your arm or leg to kill pain.9 You do this when you
have a pain all the time. Take wood and burn it to charcoal. Then light a small
piece of it again, one about the thickness of the lead in a lead pencil. Blow on it
until it burns at one end and moisten the other end or the place on the arm where
you are going to put it. Then stick it on. Let it burn out. Don't watch it as it
burns. Some do it four times around the place where it hurts.

Here we have the fighting of like by like, the restriction against
watching the flame, and the feeling that the procedure should be
repeated four times; yet the sufferer does not have to possess a
ceremony in order to give himself the treatment.

The method for curing ivy poisoning and red-ant stings ob-
viously borrows from the psychology of ritual also :

My people knew about poison ivy and how to recognize it. If I touch poison
ivy, the blisters break out, because I am sensitive to it. But perhaps you are not.
Then my father and mother will call you over, because, though you touch it, it
does not bother you. You don't have to be a shaman or know anything special.
You come and rub anything on — it might be dirt. You say, "Now this person is
just like me. Leave him alone. Go away. I'm watching him." It's the same with
the sting of the red ant or any stinging thing.

Sweat-bathing. — Another practice that stands midway be-
tween therapeutics and ritual is sweat-bathing. Many who have
used the sweat bath consider it a means of keeping fit and are
little concerned with its ritual extensions. "I used to do it just
for a general tonic," explained one informant. Even when the
sweat bath is thought of as a cure for deformities, it is to the heat
and the massage that the benefits are usually attributed. Said
one commentator: "The sweat bath was the custom since the
beginning. Maybe it was supposed to be a ceremony, but since
then it has been wearing off."

9 This method is similar to the tests of courage popular with young boys
(cf. p. 69).

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FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 219

The person who agrees to erect a sweat house is not a true
shaman, nor are the rights which are now transmitted from indi-
vidual to individual explained as a result of some past power
experience. Thus, one informant was of the opinion that Child of
the Water "gave the custom." And yet the right to build a sweat
house is a special prerogative, claimed and controlled by rela-
tively few men.

Not everybody can make a sweat bath. Just certain men can do it — men to
whom the knowledge has been handed down. Such a man builds it or directs the
building of it. All the while it is being built he sings and prays for it. He handles
every movement in connection with it ceremonially, just as he was directed to do
when the right was handed down to him. He is present when the sweat bath is
used. He is the one who chants the prayer part of the song when the men are
inside, though all who are in there join in the refrain. He is usually quite an old
man. He sets the rules. You can't just come in and go out as you please. It
might be in this man's "way" that you have to stay in there through a certain
number of songs. Then you have to do it.

The sweat bath is used for good health, for long life, and to cure sickness. It
is usually built near water, and when the songs are finished everybody rushes out
and plunges into the water. Very old men who can't do that sit down on the bank
and splash water on themselves.

An account of the erection and use of the structure may place
the practice in perspective:

Sweat-bathing is for health and good fortune. Deformed people do it a great
deal and are massaged when they come out. Usually a sick or deformed man
pays one who knows how to put it on, but no special kind of payment is given.
Others are invited. But often the man who knows how will just put it on for the
benefit of the people. When the announcement is made, many men want to take
the sweat bath. Everything else is laid aside. This is a special occasion. Women
don't take sweat baths, nor boys before the racing [boy's training] age.

The sweat house could be made any time of year, but it is usually done in the
summer. It is dome shaped like the regular house, only smaller. It is about four
and a half feet high and about six feet in diameter. The framework is of oak, tied
together at the top. The outside is covered with brush and with skins. No smoke
hole is left at the top. The door faces the east. On the inside, close to the door
and on one side of it, there is a pit for the hot rocks. The man in charge directs
the making of this sweat house.

In the morning a person who is sick or deformed and who is going in there
prays in his own way. He may say, "I am sick in this manner. I want to get
well, and so I am doing this in the right way."

Often they begin about midmorning. Twelve is the most allowed in at one

220 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

time. About four to six men usually go in at once. They wear just a loincloth.
Before they go in, pounded pinon needles or pounded juniper may be rubbed on
their bodies by the man in charge. All the men wear sage tied around their heads
while they are in there. And they •.. Ve a drink in which four pieces of mesquite
bean have been put. Each man has to bring a stick to scratch with. He cannot
scratch his body with his fingers.

Four big rocks are heated outside and then brought to the pit inside with a
forked stick. Water is brought. The men are sitting in a circle but leave an open
space to the east. Then the water is sprinkled on the hot rocks. Anyone who is
appointed can sprinkle water on. One man sits outside and operates the door
cover so that the heat does not escape. The man in charge is always in there. He
prays in there and leads the singing. Special songs are sung, songs that mention
the sweat bath, the earth, and the sky. Usually four songs are sung over and
over. All who are inside sing.

The men try to stay in there about an hour. Then they come out and bathe.
Some young fellows run a race, too, while they are still warm from the sweat
bath, to enable them to become good runners and to make them long winded.
That is their belief.

Sometimes the men go in four times during the day. But some can't stand it.
K. went in once. The heat was so great that he didn't go in a second time. Some-
times they just go in once and it's over. They rub themselves well with their
hands when they come out. Sweat-bathing like this keeps men in good physical
condition. It isn't done right away again. They would wait at least fifteen days
before doing it again. There is no use for very old people to go into the sweat
house. Their lives are spent.

Herbalism. — Plants are used in the majority of cases, whether
the manner of combating the illness be ceremonial or purely secu-
lar. "There are all kinds of roots and weeds and herbs, something
for everything; nothing was left out." Some plants are considered
so "strong" and so "ceremonial" that only those who have super-
natural sanction and directions for their use dare apply them.
Other plants, usually administered in nonritual contexts, appear
in ceremonies if the supernatural power so orders.

Incensing with the smoke of burning juniper and pinon boughs
is mentioned repeatedly:

My people take pinon and juniper, put the boughs together, and burn them.
They do it inside the home and keep the members of the family there until they
can't stand it any longer. This burning makes a lot of smoke, and they stay
there until the tears come from their eyes. Then they won't catch a disease that
is around. They do this if there is a great deal of disease around.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 221

Various rectal ailments are treated with medicines adminis-
tered through an enema tube:

The Chiricahua use the enema tube in cases of the passing of blood, for hem-
orrhoids, or for long-continued stomach trouble. The tube is of carrizo or elder-
berry wood. It is used on both men and women. The medicine, made from
plants, is a liquid and is poured in. Then the one doing the curing blows into the
tube. After the tube is taken out, a powder made of pulverized dry plants is
placed in the rectum and around it. Last some grease mixed with red ocher is
rubbed around the anus.

For blood in the stool, the root of cinquefoil is ground up and
mixed with water; the decoction is drunk. It is also applied ex-
ternally to aching parts of the body. Apache plume {Fallugia
paradoxa) is used as a laxative, while for diarrhea cudweed
{Gnaphalium decurrens) is recommended. "Boil the flower if you
want to take it for diarrhea. Then dry it. It keeps dry all the
year around. Pick it toward fall when it blooms. Drink it like a
tea. Drink it first and eat afterward."

A cure for mumps and for swellings on the neck draws upon
sympathetic magic. "If you have mumps or lumps on the neck,
get a plant with a bulb, burn it to ashes, put the ashes on the
place with grease, and tie it up."

Oak root is shaved, soaked in water, and used as an eyewash.

A number of pungent plants, among them sage and Hilaria
cenchroides, serve as remedies for colds:

For headache, crush and smell strong flowers and plants. Do it when the nose
is dry and you feel that you are getting a cold. But do not use them as snuff; do
not breathe it right up. Sage is crumbled, mixed with tobacco, and smoked in
cigarettes for colds. They also boil it, strain the liquid, and drink it.

The most widely used medicine for headaches, colds, and
coughs is the root of osha (Ligusticum porteri) :

Mix it with tobacco and smoke it for a cold. Chew it for a cold or cough too.
Grind it up, mix it with water, and rub it on the affected part, on the nose if that
is stopped up. If this doesn't work, boil some and drink the water. It may cause
vomiting, but it is good for a chest cold. For headache, grind it up, mix it with
water, and rub it on the forehead.

The screw bean (Strombocarpa pubescens) is a highly consid-
ered specific for ear trouble. "Grind it up. Put a little salt and

222 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

water with it. Soak it up with some absorbent material, and
then squeeze it into the ear."

Excessive dandruff has its remedies. "We use plants for this,
two or three different kinds. We burn them to ashes and rub the
ashes on with grease. The sap of trees is good for this too."

We see, theny that for minor ailments well-known plants are
used without ritual. If pain or sickness persists, an herbalist may
be hired who sings and prays while he gives the medicines.

My small boy hurt his arm, and it didn't get better for a long time. I heard
that F. was good and had medicine for such things. So I got him. He sang a song
first. Then he put some of the medicine on the boy's arm. It cured him too.

Toothaches are sometimes treated by a similar combination of
prayer and medicine:

There was a person who knew something about teeth, and he gave an herb
that was used for toothache. He prayed in addition, and the toothache was
cured.

But in some illnesses which require dosage with herbs the
medicine must be given with more formality. Such a malady is
venereal disease. The medicine, which is made from the pounded
and boiled roots of the locust tree, must be tendered to the pa-
tient by one who has special knowledge concerning its prepara-
tion and ritual.

A certain young fellow got gonorrhea. The boys used to joke with him a great
deal about it. I don't think his mother ever knew what was the matter with him.
He just said he was sick. I remember that he approached my father and asked if
there wasn't some Apache remedy for the disease. My father said there was, and,
of course, there is. I don't think my father had the ceremony that goes with the
root, however, and could not have treated him anyway. But my father told him
that part of the treatment was that the sick man had to bring the girl before the
man who gave the treatment, or the disease could not be cured. The sick man
refused to do this. He didn't want to tell on the girl. So my father said that he
could do nothing for him in that case.

Of venereal disease another informant said:

We have a ceremony for venereal disease. When there is a hard boil down
there, they recognize that it is very serious and hard to cure. When it breaks,
they have a medicine to put on it. They use a ceremony and drink medicine.

When a person is very sick from venereal disease and a shaman is carrying on

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 223

a ceremony to save him, an herbalist, a man or woman who knows what plants
will help this sickness, may be called in at the same time. In fact, the shaman
may advise this. His power may tell him that someone who knows a good plant
is needed. I know cases where a man is pretty sick with gonorrhea and they get
him well.

Illnesses peculiar to women are treated by a combination of
herbalism and ceremonialism often :

If menstruation stops and the woman is not with child, it is a serious disease
called "blood is in her." It can cause a woman to die. For this "flint medicine"
is used. This is a lightning-riven twig. The wood is chipped off, boiled in water,
and the medicine put in a bowl or cup. Whoever gives it marks it with pollen,
performs a ceremony with pollen, and then it is drunk. Just people with special
knowledge can perform the ceremony.

For pain at the monthly period and for an excessive flow of men-
strual blood, this medicine is also given. Sometimes scrapings
from a flint or "thunder arrow" are added before it is taken.
So great a scourge is tuberculosis that plants considered effec-
tive against it assume much importance, and their use is accom-
panied by a great deal of ritual. The most highly esteemed spe-
cific for this disease is "narrow medicine," Perezia wrightii:

"Narrow medicine" is powerful. It is a root which is ground up and put into
water. It is not boiled. Water is put in a shallow basket which is lined with pitch
to make it watertight. Then the medicine is added to the water, and four hot
stones are put in. It is necessary to use four. It foams up when it is heated.
There is a prayer, and a cross of pollen is put on the medicine. Then pollen is held
to the four directions and put on the head and back of the patient. A cup of the
medicine is taken and held to the directions four times. Then the patient drinks.
This is good for tuberculosis. Lots of people get well from taking it.

After taking the medicine, the patient lies out in the sun and gets heated up.
He vomits up all the tuberculosis. If he doesn't vomit, he has to defecate. It
works either way. Sometimes you see the tuberculosis worm alive and about a
half-inch long. Then the patient starts to regain his health.

This herb has been in use a long time. My great-grandmother used it. If the
patient is not too far gone, it works. It is given only once or twice. If you take
much of it, it makes you weak. It is very expensive. You give a great many
things for it — even a horse.

If the person giving it does not know the secrets of it and puts too much in,
the patient will go crazy and kill himself. If you don't know the secrets, even
though you know the right amount to give, it will hurt you. Tuberculosis is
usually treated by old women who know a good deal about herbs.

224 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

ORIGINS OF DISEASE

Contaminating animals. — Ailments which do not yield to or-
dinary herbal remedies or to decoctions ritually administered are
thought to have been contracted from unclean animals or from
animals or supernaturals capable of sending disease when of-
fended, defied, or instigated by malevolent forces. It is to com-
bat sickness of this kind that the intricate curing ceremonies are
reserved.

There are different ways in which the disease reaches the indi-
vidual:

Here are three ways that you can get sickness from an animal or from some
other source. One is by getting scared. This is typical of owl disease. It is the
thrill of terror, the moment of cold fright, that is really the entrance of the evil
influence into your body. You might have such an experience and not be sick for
months. Then, when you get sick you remember. You say, "Ah, that is when it
happened, when I was so frightened." Another way is by smell, odor. Bear and
lightning sickness may be spread in this way. Another way is touch. Contact
with hides of the evil animals such as the bear, wolf, and coyote will give you the
disease.

The greatest caution is observed toward animals and forces
which can do so much harm:

If a Chiricahua tells a story about a bear or any animal or thing that can
sicken him, at the end he says, "I'm talking about pollen and all kinds of fruit.
Let everything be as good as ever." He makes believe that he isn't talking about
that animal.

Formerly the Chiricahua would seldom say the regular word for bear. They
would call it "mother's sibling." It doesn't like to be called by the regular word.
It gets after you when you say that. Bear is also called "wide foot" and "large
buttocks." It likes to be called "ugly buttocks" too. We call the thunder
"grandfather" and the snake "yellow flowers." We spit when lightning flashes.

Of the animals which are unreservedly dangerous to those who
do not "know" their supernatural power, the most important are
the bear, the coyote, the snake, and the owl.

Bear. — The general attitude toward the bear, the manner in
which bear disease is contracted, and some of the symptoms of
the ailment are described by one man as follows:

The bear, like the coyote, causes evil influence. It is killed only in self-de-
fense, for no bear meat is eaten and we are afraid to skin a bear. If you come in

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 225

contact with the track of a bear, or a tree where a bear has leaned, or bear
manure, or if you sleep where a bear has sat down, or if you come in contact with
a bear by smell or touch, you can get sick.

The smell is very important. As soon as it gets in a person through smell, that
person is under evil influence. If a person does not come in contact with a bear
but is scared by a bear, it causes sickness too. The condition of fright that a man
gets in causes his sickness.

A person suffering from bear sickness gets run down. It seems like he is
smelling that bear all the time. At night he is always dreaming that he has

hardly got away from a bear that is chasing him, or something like that

Bear sickness often shows up in a deformity, in a crooked arm or leg.

Should the path of a bear be accidently crossed, an attempt is
made to deceive the bear about it. "If you have to cross the
tracks of a bear, you say, 'It was a year ago.' It is the custom to
say that to make it appear that it happened a long time ago, so
the evil influence will keep away."

Specific symptoms equated with the characteristics of the bear
mark the onset of bear sickness:

When a man is sick from bear, he acts like a bear. First he gets a pain all over
his body. Then his mouth is twisted, and he bites. His whole face twists. His
body swells.

Long ago at Fort Stanton two men got sick from bear and died. These two
men were out. It was snowing. There was a big pine tree. A bear had been there.
The two men slept there all night. They got sick from it. Their arms went be-
hind their backs, and they growled like bears. I saw them when they were sick.
They tried to bite me.

A long time ago, when I was a child, I was playing in a cave where a bear had
lived. Pretty soon I got sick. I got tired, wanted to lie down, and foam came out
of my mouth as it does from the mouth of a bear when he is tired. They had a
ceremony performed for me, and I got better. The shaman sang, and I got well
that same night.

Coyote, wolf, fox, dog. — The coyote, if he is molested, can, at
the very least, bring bad luck or an accident:

Our dog ran ahead [after a coyote]. Suddenly the dog doubled his tracks and
ran right in front of S.'s horse. The horse went over as S. tried to avoid the dog,
and S. fell and hit his head. He didn't come to for a long time. We were far away
from anyone, and I didn't have any water. All I could do was sit there and hold
his head and fan him with my hat. By and by he came to. That's what the old
men say about coyotes; they say that Coyote is bad and that something always
happens to you if you go after one.

226 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

More serious is a disease, marked by deformity, which Coyote

is capable of causing:

When a person has it, his face gets lopsided with the mouth pointing one way.
Or he gets cross-eyed, or his legs or hands get cramped. There is a disfiguration
somewhere. You can get it from a coyote — from touch or fright or smell, or from
crossing its tracks -We kill coyotes sometimes, but we don't touch the skins.

Eye defects, particularly, are attributed to coyote sickness.
"One man whose eyeballs turn up told me that his eyes were all
right until he used a coyote skin for a rug. Since then his eyes
have been bad."

The coyote shares his evil reputation with the wolf and the
fox. Most informants class the three together and claim that the
ceremony that will cure sickness from one of them will serve for
illness brought by the others. There is a definite feeling that the
fox is the least dangerous of the trio and that the coyote is the
most baneful. The appearance of a fox, however, is taken as an
omen of impending death: "Gray Fox .... is connected with
death. If at dark Fox goes near some camps, that means that
someone in that group is going to die."

In the following discussion the nexus between wolf sickness

and the evil influence of the coyote is made clear:

The wolf, coyote, and fox .... bring bad luck and make you sick, even if you
only touch them or smell their breath. Such contact deforms a person, making
him cross-eyed, turning his lips, and making him twitch. At Fort Sill an old lady
had her dog follow a wolf. The woman went after the wolf in order to help her
dog, and she pulled the wolf, which was in a hole, by the hind leg. She became
ill. She began to get cross-eyed and to shake, and her lips became crooked.
Geronimo was living then, and he sang over her and cured her.10

Of dogs the people say: "We didn't have dogs in the old days.

Dogs make a lot of noise. The Chiricahua were on the run and

couldn't have them." "We have had them only since contact

with the whites." Evidently the dog was at first greatly feared:

The dog was classed with the coyote, wolf, and fox. We felt that all of them
could cause you trouble. We wouldn't touch the skin of a dead dog. When you
have a disease from a dog, the saliva comes down as it does with a mad dog. You
get a little crazy and go, "Aaaa!"

10 Geronimo's coyote power ceremony (pp. 40-41) is probably what was used
on this occasion.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 227

Now that the people lead a more settled life and raise stock,
there is a real need for dogs, and the feeling against touching
them no longer exists. But they are still regarded with some
suspicion. "It is not liked if a dog sits on his haunches be-
fore you, looking the other way. It's a bad sign. For some rea-
son, dogs are not allowed around the hoop-and-pole game
grounds either."

Snake.1-1 — There is, of course, some danger of bites from rattle-
snakes, but it is not this alone that is feared. The bite, in fact, is
treated ceremonially like any other manifestation of snake sick-
ness. When a snake is accidentally encountered, it is accorded
the greatest respect and is referred to by a relationship term:

If a person who does not "know" Snake sees one, he says, "My mother's
father, don't bother me! I'm a poor man. Go where I can't see you. Keep out of
my path."

You always want to be patient with the snake, and whenever you happen
upon one you want to give it good words. Say, "I want to be friends with you, so
you must not do anything to hurt me." Whenever you talk to it, say, "My
mother's mother, I don't want to see you anywhere I go. You must stay out of
my way. You must remain in the ground. There are many people on this earth
traveling everywhere."

It is not surprising that the snake, which sloughs its skin,
should be held accountable for serious skin ailments of all kinds:

Snakes have evil influence. The snake has the power to make you sick if you
handle him. He causes your skin to peel. The snake is an animal, but at the
same time he has a supernatural influence about him that is very bad and very
powerful. All snakes are classed the same way.

We are not so much afraid of the snake as we are of the owl or the coyote
which we can't fight back. But we don't like to handle snakes or the shed skin of
a snake. It causes sores on the inside of the lips, on the hands, and on the skin all
over the body. Sometimes blisters break out. It might cause this right away or
sometime later.

Swelling appears as a symptom in a specific case of snake sick-
ness:

11 The eel is called by the same name as the snake and is classified with the
snake.

228 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

On the banks of Medicine Creek at Fort Sill I went fishing. I left my cap on a
bank. I went back to the village. The next day I went to look for my cap. I
found it and wiped off the sweat from my face with the cap.

The next day my face was swollen. My relatives did not know what was
wrong. They consulted an old shaman, a woman. She could trace everything
from her singing. She said prayers and sang four songs over me. No one knew
what was wrong. While she sang, she saw a cap on a bank. It was mine. While
she was looking at it, she saw something moving and coiling around inside the
cap. My relatives asked me about my cap. I told them what had happened.
Then the old lady knew what had happened. A water moccasin had got into
my cap.

There are many ways of contracting the disease:

A person gets sick by being bitten The sloughed skin of the snake will

also cause the sickness. If I pick up the skin where I am weeding, it causes death

too. A person can get sick from being scared by a rattlesnake A person

gets sick from smelling the snake. If a person lies where a snake has been, he gets
sick from that.

Mention of the snake is usually avoided except in invective:
"The snake is used in quarreling. Sometimes people say, 'I wish
a snake would bite you!' " But this, too, has its dangers:

If a man says in anger, "I hope a snake bites you," he will get sick from
snakes. He has a bad mouth. Before this the snakes have not bothered him, but
he's got a bad mouth, and it's bound to make him sick.

The fate of an impious man who defied the precepts for com-
mercial gain is told today:

Every spring white spots used to come around that man's mouth. It hap-
pened right up to the time of his death. This is because he did things against the
Chiricahua's way. He went around and fooled with rattlesnakes. Many people
living here have seen what would happen to his mouth every spring.

He used to catch rattlesnakes and skin them and sell the skins. He was a
strong man, and he used to grab them in the back of the neck and strangle them
to death. Then he'd skin that snake. He'd take out his knife and cut it open.
He'd put one end of the skin in his mouth, with the blood and fat all over him and
streaming down his face, and he'd pull at it to separate the skin from the rest.
He used to call to other people, "Come here! Get hold of this!" But no one
would go near him. After that he got sick from it and got these white spots every
spring. The Chiricahua doesn't want to have anything to do with snakes. I
know I don't even want to look at a rattlesnake.

Even animals are susceptible to the malignant influence of
snakes:

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 229

We had a good sheep dog. She found a nest of small snakes and ate them.
Then she got so mean we couldn't do anything with her. We were afraid of her.
She wouldn't obey and would come running at you. We had to shoot her.

Owl and ghost. — Fear of the owl, initially communicated to
children by the very panic of their elders, grows in intensity with
the passage of time. It is said: "Coyote and the snake are about
the same, but the owl is most dreaded." "The Chiricahua are
afraid to say anything about owls or to tell stories of owls." Nor
can the presence of an owl around camp be treated with indif-
ference :

If an owl hangs around your camp, you can take a burning stick from the fire
and throw it in the owl's direction. Some would shoot at these birds. But a man
who had power from that bird wouldn't shoot at it. He would be praying to it.
He would know what it was around for.

When my wife and baby and I are in sheep camp and the owl begins to hoot,
we don't like it. My wife often asks me to chase it. Sometimes a little child gets
scared. We don't like an owl around when children are sleeping.

A typical reaction to the sight of an owl is that of the old
woman of this narrative:

My sheepherder is a Shawnee Indian. Not long ago he killed an owl and
brought it into my camp. We didn't notice what he was doing. An old woman
was there. It was about twenty minutes before she knew what it was. She
thought it was an eagle at first. Finally she asked me what it was, and I looked
and told her it was an owl. Then she blew up and began to scold. "Throw that
thing away! It's going to cause you evil influence," she said. I said, "Not me,
but that fellow who is handling it." "Yes, you, for you have it in your camp,"
she answered.

The owl is so greatly feared because it is the form assumed by
another agent of disease and malevolence; it is the materializa-
tion of the ghost:

Once I was riding along with Old N. and we heard an owl. N. was a brave
man, but he got so scared he nearly fell off the horse. I said, "Why, that's only a
bird!" "Don't say that!" N. told me. "It's a ghost. It comes out of the grave
and it goes back."

The proper destination of the shades of the deceased is the
underworld, where it is hoped they will continue another exist-
ence oblivious of the living on the earth above. Their materiali-
zation as owls can indicate only an evil purpose :

230 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The owl represents the spirit or ghost of a person who was bad during his life
and continues to be vicious after death. He works by entering the body of an
owl and exercises evil influence in this way. Those who were desperate in life,
such people as murderers and those who were given to jokes of a rough nature,
are the ones likely to assume such a form after death.

This is what I heard in my young days — I remember my father telling me of
it. Our belief is that, when the Chiricahua who has been a bad one dies, he turns
to an owl. We believe that the bad ones go right into the owl at death, at once.
The others who were good through life go to the underworld.

Since the owl is the ghost of a malicious human being, its hoot

is interpreted as a dire warning:

I'm not so much afraid to kill an owl or even to handle it; it's the call! When I
was in sheep camp, I listened closely and it seemed to me that it was talking the
Chiricahua language. Some say they hear it say, "I'm going to drink your
blood!" My wife says it sounds that way to her. Some say it sounds like, "I'm
one of your relatives." To me it sounds like, "I'm a Mescalero." Some believe1
that dead relatives are in the form of the owl. They don't want to hear it. It's
not the owl itself which is the dead person, but the voice. The owl always fools
around the place where a person has died.

These "words" of the owl can cause sickness through fright:

If you hear an owl, you know a ghost is near by, for the owl is connected with
the ghost. The ghost uses him, goes into his body. Owls talk the Chiricahua lan-
guage. They say different things to different people. To me it seems like they
are raying, "All your people are going to get killed." The call of the owl is very
powerful. It can get into your body and cause trouble.

Most people, feeling that direct reference to evil invites its
appearance, are unwilling to speak of owl or ghost sickness.
Therefore, because ghosts and owls are both particularly active
at night, the malady which they bring is most often designated
"darkness sickness."

An actual encounter with an owl is a harrowing experience:

The Chiricahua are afraid of the owl. It is because the owl stays around the
place where people have died, and when it comes it is a sign that someone is going
to die. Many people, when they hear the call of the owl, get frightened and faint.
My wife went through an experience with the owl. About a hundred paces from
her my wife saw a person in black. This person was walking toward her. When
it got close, it changed to an owl and flew at her. When it flew up, it tried to sit
on her head. She fought off the owl, and it flew away. I wasn't at home at the
time. When I came home my wife was still trembling. I knew a ceremony to-
ward the owl, and so I performed it and made her well again.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 231

When you are frightened by the owl, your heart begins to flutter; your heart
gets weak and you fall down. I can pray for a person who has been frightened
like this and, even though his heart is beating only a little, can restore him so
that he gets up again.

Another story, so well known that it has been recorded from
four different informants, concerns the return of a woman's ghost
to her former home:

A man and his wife lived out at Whitetail. About two years ago the wife died,
and the husband continued to live at the same location, though he didn't use the
place in which she had died. One night he heard a knocking at the door. Then
something was calling him by name. He went to the door but could see no one.
This happened for three nights. He was very frightened. He kept his gun ready.

There was a full moon the fourth night. He had gone to bed. He thought he
heard a rapping on the window. He looked and was pretty sure he saw his wife's
face. He tried to talk to her. He said, "Come in at the door; if you have any-
thing to say to me, let us see each other face to face." But no one came in.

After a while he heard the rapping again. This time he shot, and he heard
groans. He was afraid to go out until morning. When he went out the next
morning, he found a dead owl lying by the window. The next day he told the
story. He knew he wouldn't live long after that, and he didn't last long. He
could have gone to an owl shaman, but he didn't care much about going on living
after that.

It is evident that owl sickness is but one aspect of ghost sick-
ness. But, though all owls are ghosts, the ghost need not take the
form of an owl to frighten or harm the living. A whistling sound
at night, when nothing at all is visible, is attributed to ghosts.
This has given rise to a rule: "No whistling is permitted at
night, for then the ghosts whistle back to you and scare you."
There are ways of protecting one's self when the whistle of a
ghost is heard:

When you get scared you get sick. If you go out on a dark night, you tie a
small amount of ashes up and carry this. Put some ashes on your face too.
When you hear a whistle at night, take some ashes and throw them in the
direction of the whistle, and then the ghost gets frightened and doesn't scare you
or bother you any more. Put ashes under your pillow too.

The shade may call attention to its proximity by other audible
means:

A young man was walking up a canyon with a girl in the moonlight. He heard
a horse coming, trotting along. He thought it was somebody from the camps,

232 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

and, because it was late and he didn't want to hurt the girl's reputation, he didn't
want to be seen with her. So they went up on the side of a hill. He heard some-
one laughing and talking on the other side. He told the girl to stay where she was
and went to the edge and looked down. Nothing was there. It was impossible to
block a clear view on this road. No one could go back or forth without being
seen. He didn't teH the girl about it, for he didn't want to scare her.

I know this man well, and he is pretty reliable. I said to him, "Maybe it was
just a horse." He said, "No, I could have seen a horse from that mountain."

This boy married the girl he was with on this occasion. She died. She didn't
live long after that — only four years. It's funny! Ghosts come around the Chiri-
cahua all the time. That's why we believe in ghosts.

Occasionally, the ghost is neither seen nor heard but makes
itself known in some other way:

Sometimes a ghost throws a stone at a person and makes fun of him. My
cousin, my wife, and her sister were going up a canyon to a ranch. It was toward
evening. They were being drawn by a pretty lively pair of mules. My cousin sat
in front and my wife in the back of the wagon. As they were going around a cliff,
they saw a stone come through the air. It was thrown under the mules. The
way it came proved that it could not have rolled. Three neighbor boys lived
around there, but they were away that day. The mules were frightened and near-
ly tipped the wagon over. It must have been a ghost that threw the stone. No
one else could have done it.

There are times when the ghost is discernible as an amorphous
black or white object:

One day, after I was married, I was riding my mule back from Whitetail. My
young brother-in-law was with me, and we got lost in the woods and could not get
out before dark. We got into a canyon neither of us knew. And up among the
trees I saw something white. I didn't think anything of it, but in a few minutes
I saw it again. Still I thought it was a wild white horse or a bare patch of earth.
Right then my mule began to balk and rear. I couldn't do anything with her.
I got off and called to my brother-in-law, but it was a long time before I Could lead
that mule out of the canyon. Finally, we got our directions and got home.

I rode up to the camp and called to my wife to take the mule. I was so weak I
could hardly get off. I couldn't even tell her what was the matter. She had to
help me in, and I was just ready to die. My mother-in-law knew a great deal, and
she said, "He is sick from darkness." .... I said to my young brother-in-law,
"Did you see anything white when my mule shied?" But he hadn't seen anything
at all. So he didn't get sick.

A footprint may be the only tangible evidence that a ghost has
paid its unwelcome visit :

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 233

This happened to S., and he was a good Christian then. He was asleep by a
window. It was at the time of a big snow. That night someone knocked at the
window. S. and his wife heard it. At first they paid no attention. Finally S.
called and asked who was there. He received no answer. They went to sleep. In
the morning they went to the window and saw a track there. S. started to follow
it. The trail led to the mountain. He followed it for a while, but he got tired and
came back. Tracks like that usually lead to graves.

The greatest misfortune of all is to see the ghost in human-
like form and to recognize the actual features:

I have heard stories of persons who have seen the dead. Those who see things
like that die within a year. A certain man's wife died. At that time he was well.
After her death he saw his wife; she came back and talked to him. She said, "It is
a better world where I am. Come on." This man took sick and died a short time
afterward. There is no way to protect yourself or prevent your death when a
thing like this happens.

Most often it is in dreams that the dead are distinctly seen:
Ghosts appear also in dreams, in sleep. That is the worst form, I guess. You
really see them in a dream. I get like that. The door opens and they get closer
and closer. I want to get up and fight, but I can't move. I can just say, "Ah!"
The Chiricahua say this is ghost sickness. It can make a person very ill. It's a
sign of trouble with evil ghosts if you do that too much, and you have to go to a
shaman about it.

Sometimes at midnight or toward morning while you are asleep, you dream
that a person is choking you. It might be a dead person, a relative gone a year or
two ago. If it happens for another night or two, you must go to a ghost shaman.
If you see a dead person in your sleep, you are not going to last long, they say.

A dream in which his recently deceased friend appeared before
him was described by a much-shaken informant:

This morning about four o'clock I dreamed of Old P. standing at the door.
I woke up frightened and grabbed my wife. Maybe he came back because I sang
his ceremonial song. The very night that P. died I dreamed he came to me. I
didn't tell my wife because she would have been frightened. But they don't
bother me much. I have my cross,12 and they stay away. P. claimed that he
knew nothing but Yusn and Child of the Water.13

12 The cross of the Silas John cult, a modern religious movement which draws
in part from aboriginal religious ideas, in part from Christianity. The cross,
made of algerita wood, is worn to ward off* evil and witchcraft.

13 The informant here is trying to reassure himself. Since Yusn and Child of
the Water are beneficent supernaturals, he is proving to himself that his departed
friend can be up to no mischief.

234 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Ghosts are often outspoken concerning their intentions and
their death wishes. "I dreamed last night of C. who is dead. C.
said to me, 'Why don't you hurry up and die ?' I replied, 'I don't
die because I don't know any false ceremony.' "

Dreams of dead blood relatives and affinities are not infre-
quent. "I dreamed of one of my relatives by marriage who is
dead. I dreamed that she came back and held my grandchildren

in her arms If anyone dreamed about his dead relative

nearly every night, he would cry every day. It makes his heart
feel very bad."

The most terrifying dream of all is that in which one accepts
food from a deceased relative, for such acceptance, as has al-
ready been noted, is a sign of immanent death.

Frequently a person recovering from a serious illness, during
which he has lapsed into unconsciousness, tells those about him
that he has been to the underworld. In one such case, an old
woman is said to have visited the camps of her dead kin. Two
young relatives met her and warned her not to accept food at her
father's home if she wished to get back to the earth. Though she
was urged to partake of the food, she refused and was able to
reach the upper world and return to her body once more. The
same theme is encountered in another of these tales:

Once a man who was very sick and out of his head went to sleep. He visited
the other world and saw his friends and relatives through a kind of partition. He
was offered food that was all laid out and marked with pollen as it is on the fifth
morning of the girl's puberty rite. His guide, though his relative and friends
urged him to eat, told him not to take the food, as he could not return to this
world again if he ate it.

The symptoms of darkness sickness usually present a picture
of extreme terror:

If you feel numb around the heart and in the chest, if, when you go to bed, as
soon as you close your eyes, something scares you and you get a bad headache
and vomit, that is ghost sickness.

Ghost sickness is one of the easiest illnesses to tell It affects the person

from the heart to the head and is considered very bad. The one affected has a
breakdown. He is afraid to go out in the dark. He is nervous and afraid of the
dark. When it gets dark he vomits. Even little children get it.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 235

Sudden loss of consciousness is almost always attributed to
the evil influence of a ghost:

A person with ghost sickness loses strength and consciousness. A boy got a
ghost spell in the afternoon. Before he reached the house he fell to the ground.
He got stiff as a board. They ran over to see what was the matter. They rolled
him over on his back. His mouth was twisted. His eyes went up. They picked
him up and took him home. They poured cold water on him. After that he came
to his senses and got up. He was still weak. He got another spell. His mother
went out to see a man and brought him over to the house. This man went to
work. When he got through the boy was all right. Since then he has been happy.

The disposal of a corpse has its dangers, for "ghosts don't go
right down to the underworld; they stay around the place where
they died for a while."

That is why the Chiricahua doesn't want to live in the place where a person
has died, or to handle clothes or bedding that were used by the dead person. If
you have an experience with a ghost near a place where a certain person died, you
know it is that person who is bothering you.

According to one informant, at least, even the ghost which has
made its way to the underworld "has the power to come up and
go to the place where it died." Yet "you have to go if a close rela-
tive in your own family or your wife's family dies. The group you
are in comes to help — to help around camp, to help bury the
dead, to help burn up things."

Strangers to the deceased may be exposed to comparable
jeopardy accidentally. A man may unwittingly camp for the
night at a spot which he later discovers to be the deserted scene
of a death. If his sleep is troubled by a terrifying apparition, he
will suspect that he has stayed too near a burial place.

The inclination of the ghost to linger around its corpse or its
grave and to revisit the site of its demise explains the insistence
upon hasty burial, the avoidance of graves, and the departure
of the bereaved from their former home. It also accounts for the
destruction of the personal possessions of the deceased which are
thus freed for use in the hereafter. If this rule is violated, the
ghost may come back to claim what is his and to punish those
who have withheld his property. Moreover, ghosts may be en-
couraged to appear if the affectional threads that bind them to

236 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

the living are not severed. Therefore, it is dangerous to keep the
dead in mind through excessive grief. "Calling the name of a
dead person any time is dangerous, but it is especially so after
dark." It is an insult to speak the name of the deceased before
his kin.

It is obvious that relatives and close friends of the deceased,
particularly the former, are most likely to suffer from ghost ex-
periences: "If one is a friend or relative of a dead person or in
any way associated with him, there is a fear of his ghost."

Precautions during and after the death rites will not totally
eliminate ghost sickness. We remember the man who thought
that he was being persecuted for singing a deceased tribesman's
ceremonial song and the man who, in a dream, defied the ghost
which sought his death, telling it that he would not die because
he knew no false ceremony. It takes no great insight to infer that
these two men had clashed over the validity of each other's
claims of supernatural power. In other words, the fear of the re-
turn of the ghost is not unrelated to rivalries of everyday life.
The more free from friction relations have been with an individ-
ual, the less likely is dread of his ghost to materialize.14 This was
definitely in the mind of the informant who said: "I don't think
my father's ghost would come back to bother me. No, my father
was a sensible man. He wouldn't do a thing like that. Only
those who were trouble-makers in life would bother you that
way.

The ghosts of enemy peoples, particularly Americans and

Mexicans, can cause an illness much like that produced by

Chiricahua ghosts but differing from it in some particulars.

When you just go out of your head and want to bite your tongue, and you get
scared and numb all over the back and chest, that's sickness from the white man's
ghost.

.... A white man's [American's] ghost can make you sick. You can always
see the ghost that makes you sick [in white man's ghost sickness]. To see an In-

14 For a socio-psychological interpretation of these fears of the ghosts of rela-
tives and also of the power of living kin seeOpler, "An Interpretation of Ambiv-
alence of Two American Indian Tribes," Journal of Social Pscyhology, Vol. VII
(1936), and "Further Comparative Anthropological Data Bearing on the Solu-
tion of a Psychological Problem," ibid., Vol. IX (1938).

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 237

dian ghost is fatal, but to see a white man's ghost makes you very sick, and you

see white men all the time Before the Americans came, we had Mexican

ghost sickness a lot, especially when we took guns from them.

Unlike the Chiricahua ghost, the white man's ghost does not uti-
lize the body of the owl to further its designs.

Baty gopher •, turtle. — The danger from the bat derives from its
bite:

If a bat bites you, you had better never ride a horse any more. All the Chiri-
cahua say that. If you do ride a horse after being bitten, you are just as good as
dead.

B. never rode, because if a bat bites you, you shouldn't ride a horse. He never
got into a buggy or an auto either. He would walk for miles.

To touch the gopher or to be bitten by it can cause illness. "In
1886 I shot a gopher. I thought it was dead, but it wasn't and it
bit me. My arm swelled up, and it looked like gopher holes were
in it. The Chiricahua say the gopher is bad. You can get sick
from it."

An indication that the ordinary man hesitates to touch the
turtle was obtained: "My people were afraid of the turtle and
wouldn't touch it. Only a man who got power from it would
handle it."

Red ant, vinegarroon^ black water beetle^ centipede. — A number
of insects are considered dangerous, and among these are the
red ants:

They say you can get sick from ants in the same way you can from the coyote
[i.e., as a result of its inherent evil influence]. On some people, when the ants
sting the hands, they swell up. Mine don't. They bite me, and it hurts a little
but never swells up. There are songs and a regular ceremony for ants. . . ,. . All
Chiricahua children are taught not to urinate into an anthill.

One of the most feared insects is the vinegarroon:

K. is suffering from a peculiar Indian disease. It comes from an insect bite,
from the bite of the vinegarroon. The disease is marked by a circle of red dots
around the body from the point where the person is bitten. In K.'s case he has
such a row of dots running around his chest. If these dots meet and form a com-
plete circle around the body, the person dies. K. has been having several people
sing for him.

238 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Later the stricken man died, and another informant observed:

If the vinegarroon gets in your clothes or urinates on you, red marks come
out on your body, and if they go around and meet, it kills you. K. was affected
by it. He claimed it got in his clothes. It usually breaks out on your shoulder.

A small black water beetle is held accountable for a well-nigh
fatal sickness which results when it is swallowed accidentally.
Great care is taken, therefore, to see that the drinking water con-
tains none of these insects. Even horses are not exempt from
this illness: "If you swallow one, it will kill you. I have seen
horses swallow it and die. I don't know any cure for it except to
ask some shaman to sing for you."

To be bitten by a centipede causes alarm, for "after it stings
you, you'll live one day for each leg it has. I've never heard of a
cure for this."

Crow, eagle, buzzard, parrot. — A number of birds besides the
owl are considered possible sources of peril, and prominent
among these is the crow. One man warned against carrying
crow feathers and added, "They say it makes you sick to touch
its droppings or anything from it." The opinion is supported by
other testimony:

The Chiricahua doesn't use crow feathers for arrows. Crow is one of the worst
of all. The sickness you get from Crow is worse than sickness from any other
bird its size. In the old days the Chiricahua wouldn't kill a crow. They didn't
like the crow to fly around. They were afraid to imitate it just as they were afraid
to imitate the call of the owl. The crow is not connected with dead people like the
owl, but when the crow comes around they say it means that someone is going to
die; they think it is a bad sign.

A certain ambivalence in attitude toward the eagle exists.
Eagle feathers are prized for use in ceremonial contexts. But,
because eagles "catch lizards and snakes," the people "can't eat
the kill of the eagle" (this taboo extends to the kill of hawks as
well) and "are afraid of them, wouldn't touch them." It is pri-
marily contact with the talons or bill of the eagle that is feared.

The negative reaction has left its impress on a story of a boy
who climbs a cliff, finds an eagle's nest, and brings down an
eaglet. He rears the bird and teaches it to hunt for him; but
when he first reaches home with it, the people say to him,

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 239

"Throw it away! It will make you sick!" A similar attitude is
reflected in this statement:

When you are sick the shaman may tell you that you have slept on an eagle
feather or something like that which has made you ill. You could get sick from
the eagle. And there were people [shamans] who knew about that.

Lots of people even felt that it was a bad sign to have an eagle fly around the
camps in the old days. When birds are supposed to be wild and to live out in the
mountains, they shouldn't come around where people live. It looked to the Chiri-
cahua as if they were being sent when they did come, as if they were a bad sign.

But there are also those who express no fear of the eagle.
"Eagle feathers are thought to give a person strength. The eagle
is not regarded like a coyote [i.e., inherently evil]." Moreover,
eagles are trapped and killed for their feathers, and eaglets are
occasionally reared in cages until they can be plucked.

In general an unfavorable overtone and some fear mark com-
ments about the buzzard:

Some are afraid of the buzzard. I remember that, when I'd go to pick up a
buzzard feather, my father would call out, "Drop that feather!" Most Chiricahua
do not think much about buzzards until they have a ceremony performed over
them and a shaman gives them some directions about it, such as not to let the
shadow of a buzzard fall upon them, or something like that. But these restric-
tions are not true for every Chiricahua; they are not general.

Another bird that is viewed with circumspection is the par-
rot:

The Chiricahua were not very familiar with parrots. Once in a while they
saw them in Mexico. Only a few people have seen the parrot. They know it
mocks you, and they don't like to be around it. They are afraid of it. They say,
"Why is it that a bird imitates people? There must be something to it." I have
heard people say, "If a bird talks, there must be a witch in him."

Horsey mule, spider , Thunder People, Mountain People. — There

are a few creatures and supernaturals which are to be feared only

if they are somehow offended. The horse and the mule, the

spider, the Thunder People, and the Mountain People comprise

this list. Of the first two, it is said:

If you mistreat a horse, if you hit it on the head repeatedly, it may take re-
venge on you. It will cause you to get sick. Then you must go to a shaman who
specializes in the ceremony of the horse. The mule is bad if you mistreat it; it will
cause you to be sick too. The man who knows the horse cures both kinds of sick-
ness.

24o AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The "sickness" brought by the horse is the injury suffered in an
accident for which a horse is held responsible.

If the spider or its web is not molested, there is no need to
worry about this insect. But, as an informant explained, "We
are all taught not to kill spiders. The spider has power and can
do harm if angered."

The Chiricahua will not walk into a spider web. They call the strands of the
web sunbeams and say that, if you damage these, Sun will make a web inside you
and kill you. The spider web is connected with the sun because it looks just like
a sun as it hangs there.

If you kill a spider, the same thing will happen. If you do kill a spider, there
is a rule to follow. If I should kill one, I'd say what I have heard many older peo-
ple say, "The president killed you." Or they name a white man or someone they
don't like — anyone as long as it is not themselves. It's a lie but they do it. They
put it off on someone else. This is done, too, when you kill any dangerous insect,
like a beetle or a centipede. The danger in killing or injuring a spider is that the
next spider will miss the one you killed or hurt and come and harm or bite you.

The most obvious evidence that the Thunder People are dis-
pleased with an individual occurs when he is actually struck by
lightning. However, fright is again a powerful sickening agent:
"The scare harms you." Lightning is said to be accompanied by
an odor which comes from the powder or smoke that arises where
it strikes. This powder, if it is inhaled, manifests itself in the
ailment recognized as "lightning sickness."

The smoke or dust causes harm as well as the fright. This settles in the body.
Lightning sickness affects you inside the body; it affects the stomach. When a
person has lightning sickness, he vomits and has a little fever. His feet and hands
are cold. He feels sickly and is in poor health generally. Then he should go to a
shaman and have a lightning ceremony performed; the sooner the better for him.

A young man described his illness after lightning had struck
close to him:

It was so close that I had breathed in all the lightning powder. About two
weeks after that I began to be sick. I couldn't eat, and they took me to the hos-
pital. I was sick to my stomach all the time I didn't get any better before

I went home. My mother-in-law said right away to my wife, "He has the light-
ning sickness. That powder he breathed in from the lightning has settled in his
stomach and turned to frog spittle [i.e., the green growth on stagnant water]."

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 241

Since it is so dangerous when lightning strikes near by, every-
thing is avoided that might "draw" it:

When I was little I was told not to have anything red around when it was
raining. Even in camps we used to stick red things under something so they
wouldn't show. We consider it dangerous to have red things out during a storm.
It is because they draw lightning. Red is connected with lightning. And today
the Chiricahua do not like anything red to be around when it rains, like a red
blanket. It is covered up or taken off the bed.

During a thunderstorm the Chiricahua refrain from eating, even though the
food is prepared and waiting. Eating during a storm causes much lightning, it is
thought. Even if nothing else happens, a person who eats during lightning will
lose his teeth.

A paint [pied or spotted] horse is dangerous during a thunderstorm. If you
are riding one at such a time, you get off.

It is dangerous to have a little fawn around in the rainy season. If they find
one, they get scared and let it go, for lightning is likely to strike you if you keep
it.

The Mountain People are ordinarily pitted against disease,
but they may themselves cause sickness if their rules are ignored.
"The Mountain Spirits may cause you to become disfigured.
That is why the masked dancers do not touch each other. Many
are afraid of this sickness." Insanity may be regarded as punish-
ment for omission of necessary ritual gestures during the masked-
dancer preparation: "If the masked-dancer headdress is put on
without ceremony, it makes you crazy; you see the Mountain
Spirits all the time."

Menstrual blood. — Menstrual blood is dangerous for males,
and girls are taught to dispose carefully of pads worn during the
flow. The illness suffered by a man or a boy as a result of con-
tact with menstrual blood is always described as rheumatism or
malformation of the joints. The most serious form of the malady
is contracted from union with a menstruating woman. "The
Chiricahua are afraid to have intercourse with a woman during
her period. It makes them misshapen and deformed. They be-
come unable to straighten their arms or legs. I heard of one man
who did this. This man was pointed out to me. He was deformed
in this way."

242 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

SORCERY AND INCEST

The duality of power. — If an illness is long continued, the ex-
planation that it has been caused by a certain animal or force
may not satisfy the patient, his relatives, or the shaman. The
symptoms, for instance, may point to bear sickness, but then the
question will arise: Why did the encounter with the bear occur?
Time after time the answer is sought in the machinations of a
malevolent human agent. "A witch may cause it. A witch may
cause any animal to attack you or make you sick." Whatever
befalls a person, and even what he is forced to do, may be inter-
preted as the work of witches. One commentator defined sorcery
as "making an individual do something evil by the power of some
animal or spirit." There is little sickness which cannot be at-
tributed ultimately to sorcery.

A witch can cause evil influence through the bear, the snake, or through al-
most anything.

The way they tell it, some know Sun. One who does might sing and say,
"Sun, get that man sick," and it obeys him. He is a witch. Then someone else
with stronger power and good power sees it and tells you that someone got you
sick from Sun.

From such statements we infer that a good many individuals
are suspected of using for evil those same sources of supernatural
power and the same intimate relations with their monitors that
others manipulate for legitimate purposes. "All disease can be
caused by the supernatural power of witches. Both men and
women are witches. Witches get power in the same way as sha-
mans. They are people who have power which can be used for
good or evil but is used for evil."

The dual nature of supernatural power leads to a widespread
suspicion of religious practitioners: "There are lots of ways to
know a witch from a shaman, though most people who have
much power will have both kinds." Often there is great inde-
cision in the public mind over the place of a given shaman in re-
lation to these polarities:

The truth is that a person is a shaman if he uses his power for good, and a
witch if he uses it for evil. A person will never admit using it for evil. You have
to guess by what happens; you have to use your own judgment. Therefore, there

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 243

are a good many people who look at the same person differently. Some people
have told me that S. is a witch. Others think he is all right. Some tell me that B.
is a witch, in fact, quite a few think so. Others consider him a shaman. On the
other hand, J. and R. have power, yet I have never heard of anyone suspecting
them of being witches.

Since a person can use power for good and evil and it depends on the individ-
ual, a man could be a shaman at one time and a witch at another. Sorcery is
power used for evil; benevolent power is used for good. It may be the same kind
of power. A witch can use pollen and do the same things that the shaman does.
He does not have to arouse suspicion. There are many ways of working sorcery.

Yet there are often signs of witchcraft, things that would not be used by a
shaman, such as ... . hair or a piece of a man's clothing. If I saw these, I would
know right away that it was witchcraft. Witches usually have bones of animals
or something like that with which to work.

Great secrecy surrounds the use of ceremonies for evil ends,
but a shaman whose power is beneficent may be able to detect
witchcraft :

That witch business is always carried on in secret. It's such a thing that a
person doesn't come out and tell about it. He wants to carry on his ceremonies in
such a way that no one will catch on to it. It's usually found out when a shaman
sings and performs a ceremony over one who is sick. He tells you then that such
and such a person is performing a ceremony that makes you sick.

So firmly fixed is this idea of the duality of power that sorcery
is described as being obtained and perpetuated by the same pro-
cedures as have been noted for beneficial power:

A witch learns his work in just the same ways a shaman does; he may learn
it from a man who had it, or he may be told how by his power.

Witchcraft is often handed down to close relatives whose nature is that way.
Whole families are sometimes suspected of witchcraft. The witch's secrets may
be handed down, like the shaman's.

Of a man who claimed to have refused an offer of evil power, it
was said, "That's what he told me, but I doubt that he refused
it. Some say that he is a witch. Everybody knows his father
was a witch."

The motives, scope of activity, and methods of the sorcerer. — In
some cases it is not considered necessary to seek for causes of
sorcery beyond the basic misanthropic nature of the witch.
"These people don't want to see anyone happy; they don't want
to see people laugh; they like it when there are many deaths."

244 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

"These people hate their own children; they hate their close
relatives."

But in most instances of alleged sorcery, the motive of the
witch is narrowed down to some quarrel or thwarted design:

One man suspects M. of being a witch. His wife used to be good friends with
her. She used to be over at M.'s all the time. Then she died, just after those two
women had a falling-out of some sort. That's the way they work. You have hot
words with a person. Then you die from some little accident. The person is un-
der suspicion after that.

The greed of the sorcerer and the danger of denying him his
desires is a recurring theme:

If you suspect you are witched, you must think over everybody that you have
refused anything to or to whom you have not freely given something he admired.
Perhaps someone said to you, "What a nice Navaho rug!" But you didn't give
it to him. He witched you. That's why Indians don't plan to live nicely and have
good things around. They'd only be running into danger from witches.

Rejected marriage suits may stir the malice of witches. "A
young woman might die. They would say that a man who had
been refused by her before her marriage had done this to her be-
cause he couldn't have her himself."

There is no personal misfortune, no public disaster, that may
not ultimately be construed as the work of a witch. Impotence
is sometimes attributed to sorcery, and witches are accused of
interfering with domestic tranquillity:

When I married, I lived near my wife's parents. A year later my wife had a
baby and it died. About two months later she began to act as if she wasn't the
same person at all. She was mean, and there was trouble all the time. I came
away and lived down here, but my mother-in-law liked me and knew that I was
trying to do the right thing. My wife had been witched. They took her to a
shaman, and he saw what the matter was and cured her. About a month after
she was cured I went back to her. She was just like her old self again.

Of difficult childbirth, it was said: "When a woman is having
a hard time in labor, if her husband finds out for sure that a
witch is responsible, he will go out and kill him."

At the other end of the scale is widespread sickness:

There has been much sickness around here, a lot of pneumonia. So last week
my father painted masked dancers to find out what it was from and how it was

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 245

going to end. He had the masked dancers perform right up there by his camp in
the afternoon. They had a big fire going in the middle of an open space. While
my father was singing and the masked dancers were working, their leader got a
message. He found out that it is something that has settled here. He found out it
is because the people don't get together, because they talk and work against one
another [witchcraft] that the disease has settled among us. My father told the
people that, when they act right toward one another and are no longer like this,
the disease will all go away.

Many techniques, some of them subtle and surreptitious, are
known to the sorcerer:

The way a witch influences you may start with little things. He may merely
cause you to prick your finger, and all your trouble starts from that, or he may
give you a stomach ache which continually grows worse. A witch has the power
of evil influence with all his body parts, even with his sexual organ or his anal
flatulence. He uses these as "arrows" to shoot the one he is getting sick. The
women who are witching you with venereal disease, if they see you from a dis-
tance, open their vaginas toward you and go clockwise in a circle saying what
should happen to you.

Sometimes witching is done with hair or with a rib and hair done up in buck-
skin. That is their arrow. It is a human rib and human hair that they use. They
shoot these objects into the body of the one they are making sick. They usually
have four such objects. A witch often works with the remains of dead people.
One falls under suspicion of being a witch if he hangs around a grave. Few sha-
mans try to take objects out of a sick person's body which have been placed
there through evil influence. It is dangerous and most shamans are afraid.

Sometimes the glance, the thought, or the speech of a witch will cause evil in-
fluence. And a witch can often work through having some body part of the man
whom he wants to harm, such as hair or nail parings.

A witch may have made his ceremony and said his words beforehand. Then
he comes over to you and brushes against you, pushes you, plays with you, or
steps on you — making believe all the while it is an accident or in fun. Thus he
uses evil influence on you. A witch may even make marks on the ground and
work with them.

An object of witchcraft is described in a tale of a witch
brought to bay:

At Fort Sill a person once came out of his house and lost his purse. Somebody
found it, and inside was his object of witchcraft. The name of the loser was D.,
and the finder was K., both well-known people. K. thought he had found money
and opened the purse. To his surpise he found this object. It was a bone, two
inches long, scraped fine, pointed on one end, and with a notch at the other, like
an arrow. At the notch there was green coloring. On the side was a peculiar de-
sign.

246 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

K. did not give back the bone. D. looked for it in vain and soon he was unable
to talk. He became very sick, was in awful condition, and died in a few days.
Before he died, his wife had got sick and died. Before she died, something told
her that her husband had witched her but that he would pay for it soon with his
own life. The source that had given D. his power punished him. Maybe it didn't
want him any morer A man always dies when he loses his objects of witchcraft.

The belief that a witch can accomplish his evil intentions by
the power of the spoken word makes it very difficult for an ac-
cused person to defend himself adequately. One night while a
man was sleeping there appeared before him first an old woman
and an old man, both naked, then a young girl and a boy, also
unclothed. They ordered him to put out his tongue, which they
proposed to cross with pollen, and told him that thereafter any-
thing he said should befall a person, "like wanting him to be killed,
would happen that way." This man drove off his tempters, ex-
claiming, "Go away! Leave me alone! I'm a poor man. If it
doesn't do good for my people, I don't want it." Concerning the
lesson of this visitation, he added, "That's why a witch will say,
'All right, if I'm a witch, find it; take it out and I'll admit it.'
You'd have to take his tongue out. You can't find it on him,
but it's there."

A witch may take advantage of any situation to carry out his
purposes. "It causes confusion in the tribe, that witch business.
If they were out in the wilds and cowboys or Mexicans killed
some of their best men, someone might hold a ceremony and
say a witch did it. Many times when a person got sick or died,
someone was blamed."

So resourceful are witches that a constant guard against the
unexpected must be maintained:

One time C. and I were going along the trail to church. A small bow and ar-
row were lying there right in the path. C. said, "Someone is witching the trail
because we always go through here. If we step on this, something is going to
happen to us." He got sticks and carefully carried those things away. Then we
went on.

Detection of witches; witchcraft and incest. — Not infrequently a
witch betrays himself by his virulent or aberrant behavior:

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 247

A witch can be told by his language. If he makes a threat against another and
it comes true, he may be suspected of being a witch. People who steal or habit-
ually do mean things are witches.

Or his habits may be strange and may put him under suspicion. If you see a
man on a high hill going through a strange ceremony, you can be sure he is a
witch. A shaman would not go way out in the mountains and dance naked, as I
have heard has been done. A shaman would perform his ceremony in the open
and at home. Witches always go far out and do strange things.

There are people who are queer. They are seen doing things that are not
right in this life, as if I should get out here and pray to the sun when I shouldn't.
It would look bad. Or if a man is seen carrying bones of animals and trying to
hide them; it is things like that which cause a person to be suspected of being a
witch.

Not long ago my wife got up very early to make a fire. It was before anyone
else was up. There, by the little road which runs past our camp, she saw a man
waving a handkerchief to the four directions. This was after this man's wife died.
My wife asked me what I thought of this. I said I thought it was sorcery. It was
a queer thing for a man to do.

Even if you are not a witch but do something peculiar, you will fall under
suspicion. For instance, one day I was whistling and doing some steps of the
masked dancer just for the amusement of my wife and child. My wife said, "You
had better stop. Someone may see you and think you are a witch." I was not
dressed properly for the dance, and there was no music. It would have looked
bad if someone had seen me. The Chiricahua has to be very careful. When a
person is accused of being a witch, there is always some reason for it in his ac-
tions.

.... In one case I heard of, a woman who took all her clothes off somewhere
around here and ran up a hill with her buttocks toward the camps was known as
a witch. Once a man was seen entirely naked handling his sexual organ and say-
ing some prayer. This is peculiar, and the man fell under suspicion. He was
suspected of going through a ceremony to give someone venereal disease.

The possession of unusual amulets may also give rise to gos-
sip:

They may have some beads or an arrowhead or something hidden under their
clothes. Sometimes someone sees this. Then people are suspicious. Some may
wear a little buckskin around the wrist or perhaps some little bones, or something
like that, or maybe they have some hair. Some wear what they use openly and
don't care if they are called witches.

The manner of dress may reveal the witch. "We were warned
when I was a boy that witches never wear good clothes. That's

248 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

one way of finding them out They say that a man is sure-
ly a witch if he is rich and yet doesn't wear clean clothes."

Though one informant asserted that "witches have a peculiar
odor, something like the odor of spoiled meat; if you smell it, it
may have a bad influence on you," others rejected this idea.
Sensitivity to elk meat provides a test: "If you are a witch and
eat elk, you throw up. Elk meat stays down in a good man."

It is not unusual for a trap to be laid for the sorcerer:

There was a fellow who was considered a witch. You know that tiswin or beer
that the Indians make out of corn. One shaman had a root which, if given to a
witch in this tiswin or in coffee, would kill him. It wouldn't do harm to any other
person. A man told me about this incident who was present when it happened.
It was thought that the man to whom this was done was a witch, because sha-
mans had often pointed to him as the man who caused sickness. So this shaman
told several people privately that he was going to give the root to the witch in
tiswin this time. He told the other people to go ahead and drink the tiswin, for it
wouldn't harm them. When the witch came over, some of this root was put in
his tiswin. The witch went home and soon had stomach trouble. He died in a
few days. Other people drank the same tiswin and were all right.

The victim's guardian spirit may furnish information about
the attacks of the witch:

My children and my wife all died over at the hospital. They died because the
doctor can't help them in matters of witchcraft. I could tell by my dream that
my wife was witched. In my dream I heard a voice that told me. Sometimes the
witch appeared to me in my dream. But I could not stop it. I know who the
witches who killed my wife and children were. They are dead now. In my dream
I saw that some witches just talk, just go through a ceremony of words, and in-
fluence the people that way. Since that time I have not cared much about
dreams; I did not care to be notified any more.

Very often none of the devices enumerated serves to ferret out
the evildoer. "A man might be living with a witch and not know
it; it might be his wife." The witch who so skilfully masks his
identity is exposed only when a ceremony over a sick person is
held by a shaman powerful enough to learn the true cause. Ac-
cordingly, the most spectacular curing rites are those which con-
stitute a battle, not against natural indispositions nor yet against
the evil influence of dangerous animals and forces, but against
the sorcerer.

The word "battle" is chosen advisedly. The entire contest be-

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 249

tween the shaman and the witch is phrased in terms of warfare.
The sorcerer is said to "shoot" his victim with "arrows" (the
witchcraft objects). Consequently, to intercept these arrows is
literally to disarm the witch, and this is what the shaman tries
to do. Then, with his good power, he attempts to shoot the ar-
rows back into the witch. But if the shaman is not "strong"
enough to accomplish this, he himself may fall ill, because the
very witchcraft objects which he has extracted from his patient
are now "sticking in him." Thus, the machinery of witchcraft,
once put into motion, does not halt until some victim has been
claimed — the object of the witch's ire, the witch, or the shaman.
"The witch can take off the witching he has put on you, but he
has 'given' your life when he put on the witching, and to take it
off he must offer some other life in its place."

Only a self-confident ceremonialist will press a cure when he
has ascertained that the primary cause is witchcraft:

A shaman has a good power and can make a sick person well, but if the person
for whom he is singing is very sick and the sickness is caused by a witch, the
shaman is very much afraid of that witch. Sometimes he can't get the sick person
well, because the witch might be more powerful than he is. Or he might cure the
sick person and then, if the sick person was witched, the shaman might die in-
stead.

Nearly everyone is alarmed lest such evil influence sometime
be directed against him. But no member of the tribe acknowl-
edges mastery of sorcery or will say that he has ever employed a
sorcerer. If rites purposely conducted to gain evil ends exist,
they are conducted in secret. Some confessions from witches
have been obtained, according to informants, but always as a
result of duress and torture. Boasts of witchcraft accomplished
and open threats occasionally occur, but without exception un-
der the influence of drink. Of one man it was said, "Every time
he got drunk he would tell someone, 'I'm a witch and I'm going
to kill you.' So one time they killed him." These drunken
threats do raise the possibility that there are individuals who be-
lieve that their imprecations actually harm those against whom
they bear ill will.

One characteristic often attributed to the sorcerer is sexual

250 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

aberrance. The stories of naked individuals displaying them-
selves come to mind in this connection. In the mythology, when
Coyote is accused rightfully of having had intercourse with his
mother-in-law, his rejoinder is, "That's witch talk." It will be
remembered that one who neglects to hide from his avoidance
relatives, or who is too familiar with the mate of a sibling or a
cousin, runs the risk of being named a witch. Nor was it an ac-
cident that the tempters who offered a sorcerer's tongue were
unclothed.

Incest is promptly equated with witchcraft. Of a person ac-
cused of marrying a close relative, an informant said, "In my
opinion he must be a witch, and the tribe accuses him of that be-
cause he married a close relative. People are afraid of him."
Another commentator declared: "In cases of incest, people say,
'They must be witches to do a thing like that.' I have heard sev-
eral people who are accused of incest referred to as witches.
They say, 'Even some witches wouldn't do that.' '

Public exposure and beatings are the mildest punishments
meted out to those discovered in incest. Just as often the ex-
treme penalty is demanded.

If two persons committed incest and were found out, a crowd would gather,
and any headman would say, "I know those two had intercourse together; get
them!" Everyone considered them witches, and they were burned. Incest some-
times goes before a council of people and sometimes the parents kill them out-
right. Usually the parents handle them.

If they are distant relatives and did not know they were related and find it
out after they marry, they go apart. That has happened often, I have heard.
But if they know it and everybody knows they are relatives and they marry any-
way, in the old days they would kill both of them as witches. That's what N.
used to tell us happened before there were white men and law.

A "love-death" story is told of a man who could not face the
wrath of his relatives after misconduct with his sister:

In the old days there were a brother and sister, children of the same parents,
who had been lying together. The people were suspicious of them for a long
time. The young man thought that the old people knew about them, although
they really did not. He knew that if they were caught, a terrible punishment
would come, so he took this way out.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 251

He cut a stick about nine inches long and began to whittle on it. He sharp-
ened it at both ends. Suspecting that they were caught, the couple stole off and
they lay together again, but the girl didn't see the stick that the boy had made.
When they lay down, the boy put the stick at her belly, and when he pushed
down, the stick went through her. Because it was sharpened at both ends, it
went through him too, and they both died.

The people missed them, searched for them, and found them dead. In this
case the parents were good and not witches, and that is why the boy killed his
sister and himself.

In these days the charge of witchcraft is still made in cases of
incest but not with as much effectiveness as formerly:

R. married C.'s daughter. C. and this boy's father were full brothers. C.
didn't like it. He went to the boy. He told him, "Your father was my full broth-
er. Why do you want to marry my daughter? People will call you a witch." He
went to the agent about it, but he finally gave in. That's why there is so much
trouble here now, they say. It's because things like this go on. The young people
now are like dogs, like billy goats.

By the equation of incest with witchcraft, the gravest crime
in the religious sphere and the most abhorrent act in the social
realm have been combined. The charge of witchcraft acts as the
dragnet which combs the society for the flagrant aberrant.15

Punishment of witches. — From the attitude toward those
judged guilty of incest, the stern treatment of witches may be
anticipated:

Sometimes personal revenge is taken on the witch. Every once in a while a
witch is killed by the one he has been working against or by a dead man's rela-
tives who find him out. Often they are shot. No one knows for sure who does it.
.... The last case I know of happened twenty years ago. A man and his wife
were shot as they came on horseback out of the canyon from the feast grounds
where they had been working witchcraft.

15 The data presented indicate the strong reactions of the majority of in-
formants to incest and their equation of it with witchcraft. Some informants
took a milder stand, however. Said one: "For incest between distant relatives,
the punishment would not be so severe. A person might be whipped until he
couldn't stand, but that's all. There is talk and disapproval, but after the pair are
punished, the thing is forgiven and forgotten." Said another: "Not so much is
thought about it if they are very distant relatives. They are whipped and in-
sulted. This would not spoil their chance of marriage later on. A person who is
pretty hard up is bound to get married sooner or later."

252 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When the anger of the relatives is not immediately spent, or
when the case involves many victims, a different course of ac-
tion may be adopted:

In olden times when suspected persons came before the council because they
were acting peculiarly, and extreme measures were taken, like hanging them up
by the wrists and putting wood under as though to light it, they would some-
times admit that they were witches. This was often done. I have seen it. If a
person confessed, they burned him alive. The witch has to own up and name the
ones that he harmed. Even if he promises to remove the evil influence, he is
burned. When they are burned they have no more evil influence. Sometimes
they were shot though — any way to get rid of them.

As this indicates, the examination and punishment of the
witch are frequently matters of public interest:

When something wrong which affects the whole group occurs, the leader calls
in the people involved, or the important men, or even all the people. For witch-
craft, a council of this sort would be held. The case would be presented, and the
influential men would decide on the punishment. A man can't accuse another of
witchcraft before the council unless he is absolutely sure of it.

Execution by fire is the accepted way to annihilate the sor-
cerer:

They find out from the shaman if a person is a witch. Then they force him to
tell if he did it. His relatives have no comeback. They string the witch up by
the wrists so his feet are off the ground. The witch has to tell whom he witched.
The confession is good evidence. Sometimes he has to tell what he used in his
witch ceremony, and it is taken away. I have heard people, when strung up to
a tree by their hands, admit that they were witches. They never let them go if
they prove it on them. Then a fire is built under the witch, and he is burned.
Burning destroys a witch's power for future harm, but what he has already ac-
complished is not undone. Witches do not burn up quickly; they keep on living
a long time.

Relatives are not likely to stand solidly with their kinsman
when he faces a charge of sorcery. At other times a family can
defend one of its members, for it will be pitted only against some
other family group of comparable size. But since sorcery, un-
like murder or theft, is a public offense, the witch's kin face an
aroused neighborhood, and the odds are hopeless :

.... Even your own son will be punished the same way. The witch will in-
sist on his side of the argument; his opponent may die within a short time. If

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 253

your closest relative is a witch, he is grabbed by a crowd and burned. If the rela-
tives object, they go right into the fire too.16

Fire and its derivative, ashes, are prophylactics against
witches and ghosts. Objects of sorcery extracted from the body
of the patient by the shaman are always consigned to the flames,
where they explode noisily, giving assurance of the destruction
of the witchcraft principle.17 The same thing happens when the
sorcerer's body is burned: "When he burns, there is a 'pop,'
like a shot from a gun. It is the 'witchcraft' in him popping. At
every burning I have seen there has been a 'pop.' :

That false charges of witchcraft can arise from motives of per-
sonal dislike is acknowledged. Sometimes those who doubt the
validity of the accusation are silenced at the time, however, by
the enormity of the imputations, the strident assurance and po-
litical influence of the inciters, and the prospect of defending an
unpopular cause.

Some that they burned were witches, but it was not proved that they all were.
H. was a war leader. He burned up several men and several women because he
suspected they were witches. It's like this: Someone might come alone to him
and say, "There's a man over there who is a witch." Just because one person
had told him this, he would send men over there, take that man, bring some wood,
and burn him alive. Often they tied witches to a branch of a tree by the wrists
with the feet off the ground, swinging.

Punishment is in no way mitigated when the condemned
witch happens to be a woman :

At a place in the Chiricahua Mountains, when I was a boy, I saw a witch
woman burned. The people had gone to a shaman and had hired him to find out
who was doing all the witching, for many deaths from witchcraft had occurred.
The shaman had sung all night and had finally found out who the witches were.
He told the people the witches were a certain husband and wife. He advised them
to get rid of these two.

The couple had a young baby in the cradle at the time. While the shaman was

16 Another reason why relatives shrink from aiding a witch will be developed
later (see pp. 254-57).

17 Only those things that are considered evil and dangerous are destroyed by
fire. When I asked an informant his opinion of cremation, he said with feeling,
"It would be sure to show hatred of a dead man. He is already dead. What's the
use of burning him up?"

254 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

singing, the husband spied around to see what it was all about, and he heard that
he and his wife were to be caught in the morning and punished. So he took his
wife and baby and escaped over a mountain during the night.

The next morning the people went to the witches' camp, and they were gone.
They began to trail them and they followed them up the mountain. They finally
found the woman and baby in a cave, alone. The man had gone. They brought
the woman and her baby back. Since the man had got away, they were satisfied
to have the woman.

They questioned the woman and asked her to hand over her witchcraft [para-
phernalia], thus giving her a chance. The woman said she was unable to do so;
she admitted that she was a witch, but said that the power had split her tongue
in the center and had put witchcraft there, so that whatever she mentioned hap-
pened. That was how she witched, she said; but, of course, she could give them
nothing.

The people said, "Well, we've given you a chance. We would not have pun-
ished you if you had given us your witchcraft objects. But now we can't see a
chance for you. You are in a bad way, and we have to punish you." Meanwhile
they continued to question her. At the Chiricahua Mountains there had been a
battle, and two good men had lost their lives. This should not have happened.
Who was responsible for that? They asked her. She was scared and admitted
that she was the one who had caused their deaths.

The people became angrier. They gathered wood and piled it under a tree.
Then they hanged her on the tree by the hands so that just her feet touched the
top of the woodpile. Then they set the wood afire. The fire flared up and burned
the woman to death without her saying a word or crying.

While she was burning, they held her baby. The baby was very small, and
nobody wanted to take it, and they didn't have milk for it. They thought it was
better to kill it than have it suffer hardships when it grew up, so they threw it in
the fire, although they hated to do it. The group felt good about having killed
the woman, because a witch deserves punishment.

After this woman was burned, many people died anyway, because, as she
burned, she may have been witching people. None of the leaders of that time or
their relatives are living now, and it is odd. It must be due to witchcraft.

Sorcery , power, and kinship. — The evil pursuits of a witch are
a constant threat to the lives of his relatives — an even greater
menace to them, perhaps, than to outsiders:

A man may not be carrying out the rules of his power. The power says to
him, "Now there, you stop that and do as I tell you." But if the man has a strong
mind, he might say, "No, I'm going to keep on this way. If you don't like it,
take your ceremony back." And if he continues to disobey, perhaps his close rela-
tives are taken. But some keep on like this on purpose. They are witches and
are willing to have their relatives die.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 255

To this point the assumption has been that sickness is due to
contact with something inherently injurious or to the plottings
of the witch. But the last quotation suggests that power, too,
may have demands of its own and is capable of vengeance. Pow-
er is not always a neutral, not always a force ready to act at the
bidding of the shaman or the witch. It may aid the shaman, but
only as long as it sees fit to do so, and at a price. It may sponsor
the witch, but only to ruin him finally. The duality of power,
then, must be read to mean not only that power can be used for
good or for evil but that power itself may be good or evil.

Sometimes the evil intentions of power are discernible at first
contact. "One can take or leave power. It is dangerous to take
sometimes. Sometimes the ceremony that is offered requires
some things that are not right. That is why some people refuse
it." But power may even deceive the individual who aspires to
enjoy its benefits. Many a practitioner has assumed that his
power "is for good only" later to face a sad awakening.

He had some pretty songs! I sure liked them. But he told me over here one
time, "Never sing them. They are witch songs, my friend. I never knew it for a
long time, but I have found out since what they are." .... He doesn't sing them
now. His power has run out.

Power which has seemed to be beneficent may finally demand
that the shaman sacrifice a life to it.18

A shaman may succeed for eight or ten times, and then he has to pay for his
success. The power, after working for him for a number of times calls on him for
a sacrifice, saying, "I have let you work this ceremony so many times; now I want
so many men." Then the shaman must pay with men. He is notified through a
vision or dream. In the old days they sacrificed the best men in the tribe this
way. They did it in battle. They sacrificed the ones in the front of the fight.

Sometimes a good man, when called on to do that, will say to his power, "You
should have told me about this in the first place, and I wouldn't have taken the
ceremony. This will make no better than a witch out of me. I refuse. You may
do what you want." Often they lose their lives that way. Sometimes the power
calls on them to sacrifice their own relatives, and they do. Sometimes they re-
fuse. Many times relatives are afraid of a very successful shaman.

18 In this connection the story of the shaman asked to sacrifice two warriors,
introduced on p. 208 to illustrate a different point, will be recalled.

256 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The last sentences are of particular importance, for they call
attention once more to the special peril in which the relatives of
a sorcerer are placed:

There is often a big penalty for being a very successful shaman. A shaman
might do a lot of good, then the power demands that the life of a relative be
sacrificed. If he does not agree, he pays with his own life; a trifling accident will
cause his death. He allows the power to take his son, his daughter, his wife, or
any other close relative. It causes them to get sick; it appears to be natural when
they die. The power causes the sickness, and he permits it. The relatives of such
shamans are afraid of them. The relative cannot defend himself. The matter is
not made public. The shaman, when his time comes to die, can substitute a rela-
tive for himself. I have heard very often of shamans substituting a relative when
their own time came to die.

I hear lots of talk about the fact that if a shaman has done a great deal of
good, when the time comes for him to die, his power speaks and tells him to sub-
stitute a relative in his place. One old man told me that a relative approached
him and wanted him to take a ceremony. He said to this relative, "Get out of
here with your power! You will probably substitute me, and if you don't I don't
want to have to substitute someone else." When you go to a man with much
power and question him directly, however, he evades you. He says, "Well, if
the power comes from some evil source, a person might do this." He never ad-
mits that he does it.

This fear of the power of a relative provides a source of wry-
humor:

I used to tease my uncle a lot. You know the Chiricahua think that, when a
shaman's time has come to die, he pays out one of his relatives instead. He sub-
stitutes someone. It has to be a relative. I used to say to my uncle, "When your
time comes, don't pick on me; let me die a natural death." That sounds very
funny when you say it in our language. When I'd say this, he would just laugh.

But the subject is not always treated in such a genial manner.
In the following instance traditional uneasiness is aggravated by
a quarrel between father and son over the transfer of the older
man's ceremony.

Close relatives of shamans become frightened sometimes because they are
afraid the power may claim them. There is my father: I don't know what he
knows. I'm afraid of him. He might witch me or harm me. The same with E. —
I don't want to be around him. I don't want to be in sight of either of them. I
don't want to be bothered.

Sometimes the man will let the power have its way. He will sacrifice one of

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 257

his own relatives. Of course he's a witch then. After that he might mix bad and
good. He might cure in a good way, but when the power demands a relative, he
has to sacrifice one to protect himself.

You take my father: he must have had plenty of power in J.'s day. J. has
told me how powerful he was with his ceremony. He was able to cure when he was
younger. What he said always came true.

As a rule, after a while you can do bad things to your fellow-men among your
own tribe more easily than you can do good things. I almost think it's easy for
the old man to do those bad things, for they are easily done. In J.'s time the old
man was doing good with his ceremony. But today he's a dangerous man to me.
For the last several years I can't say he has done any good for anyone with his
ceremony. Most of the people here call him and E. both witches today. E. has
been standing by him because he is studying the old man's ceremony. Every-
body knows it. The older people living here today say that, if you trace it down,
there is no relationship whatever between the old man and E. But E. calls him
brother. They have no proof that they are relatives.

THE GENERALIZED CURING RITE

Because of such factors as the diversity of the sources of pow-
er and the varying degrees of intimacy between the shaman and
the supernatural force, no two ceremonies are exactly alike; yet
all the rites conform to a general pattern.

Since many of the diseases are marked by well-defined symp-
toms, the sufferer is able to hazard a likely guess as to the cause
of his illness and to seek a shaman equipped to cope with it:

A person makes his own choice. If he is pretty sure of what ails him, he takes
his chance and goes to a shaman for a cure. A person has to use his own judg-
ment. If he thinks it is a bear that made him sick, he goes to a shaman who knows
power through the bear. The shaman will tell him whether this is the trouble
or not soon enough.

Though there is a tendency to expect a rite from a particular
source to cure sickness contracted through that same source,
strong power usually can bring some relief to any malady. There-
fore, the ailing person is as often concerned over the ability of
the shaman as he is over the power source involved.

A sick man uses his judgment and goes to a shaman he thinks has most power.
You can go to a shaman, and he can tell you beforehand if he can do you any
good. Almost any good shaman can at least tell you what is causing the evil in-
fluence, though he might have to send you to someone who can help you.

258 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The quest for a suitable shaman is sometimes a long one:

When you are sick, you tell the shaman what is the matter with you; you tell
him your symptoms. If the shaman doesn't do you any good, you change to an-
other. D. has been having a number of shamans sing for him.

The request for ceremonial aid is a delicate matter. Some
shamans may be contacted for this purpose only during the day-
time. If the sick person is able to do so, he is the one who visits
the shaman; if not, a relative acts for him.

When C. came over he said, "Help me with whatever you know. I have tried
others, but it seems as though I got no help out of it. Now I have come here to
see you. I think there is hope, and today I want you to lift up my boy who is
sick." . . . . C. called me brother. Just because C. was asking for help he called
me brother.

Since the personal name is reserved for appeal and emergency,
the need of the supplicant may be emphasized by its use:

If a person is very sick and is sent to a shaman, but is afraid the shaman will
not take the case, he calls him by his name. I call this "to plead in the Chiricahua
way." To do it you call the name of the person and then add, "I ask you to do
this which I am to say." Then you tell what you want. This is a way of asking
for help, particularly ceremonial help, but it is also used in cases of grave emer-
gency or death too. It is always said with the name and shows that the person
speaking relies on the person spoken to. It puts the person spoken to under an
obligation. He can hardly refuse and not feel ashamed afterward.

The names of other members of the shaman's family may be
mentioned also:

If a shaman is addressed by his name, he will be more likely to perform the
needed ceremony. So that he can't refuse, you can say, "So-and-so, in the name
of all your children, your wife, your whole family, I ask you to help me now."
You can mention them by name. He can hardly refuse you after that.

Then, to show respect and faith, the suppliant "marks" the
shaman "in the right way" with pollen. The usual manner is to
trace a cross on the shaman's right foot, sprinkle pollen on other
parts of his body, and finally draw a cross on his left foot. Often
a ceremonial gift is placed on the shaman's foot at this time too,
and the shaman picks it up to indicate that he will accept the
case; or a cigarette may be placed on his foot, and he smokes it
to express consent.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 259

Before the ceremony can begin, and usually at the time of the
request, ceremonial gifts are tendered the shaman. These are
gifts to the power to assure its co-operation.

The shamans for different diseases get different presents first. Even today
these can't be money. These are not given to the shaman. They are part of the
ceremony. They must be given to complete the ceremony. For a ghost-sickness
ceremony today one man wants a black-handled knife, a black silk handkerchief,
a bag of smoking tobacco, and a wooden cross. After this and on top of this a

further present might be given to the shaman, but these have to be given

His power always needs special things for a shaman to cure with, and you must
have these ready.

These offerings are almost always four in number and are gen-
erally of such a nature that they can be directly employed at
some stage in the rite. Among those which commonly appear are
turquoise, abalone shell, eagle feathers, pollen, specular iron ore,
unblemished buckskin, black flint blades, white shell, and ob-
sidian. What is called for may vary according to the patient's
sex. An unblemished deerskin, for instance, must come from a
doe if the patient is a woman, from a buck if it is a man, and the
head must be left attached with a piece of abalone or turquoise
(again depending on the sex of the patient) tied between the
ears. If possible, the gifts are logically associated with the kind
of ceremony which the shaman controls.

I had a man who specializes on mules and horses castrate my mules. The old

man made a ceremony of it He said, "Give me a saddle blanket, a bridle, a

little rope, and something else that is used for a horse. It doesn't have to be new.
Give me something you don't want. I don't care how much it has been used.
Just give me these to carry out the ceremony. Never mind other payment." He
told me he usually gets paid besides, but he always gets these things to complete
the ceremony. He made it pretty plain that his power wanted things that had
already been in use on a horse.

For a certain rite of a shaman the ceremonial gifts are always
the same, and, if the practitioner is well known, the requirements
are public knowledge. In order to learn about the "way" of a
lesser ritual figure, it may be necessary to make some inquiries.
A visit to a relative of the shaman may prove useful, for ex-
ample.

Once the shaman has agreed to perform his rite, he takes full

260 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

command and announces where and when the ceremony is to
take place. He is free to enlist the help of the sufferer's relatives
and he may direct them to build a special shelter with the door
facing the east or to gather paraphernalia and plants.

Many shamans, as a part of the ceremony, impose restrictions
upon those who wish to watch the proceedings:

Some shamans don't allow barefooted people around when they are working,
but not all are like this. Some don't allow you to scratch if you want to stay, but
not all are like this either. Some tell you that you can't sleep while the ceremony
is in progress. When we came to Geronimo's ceremonies he would warn us not to
scratch or we would get a choking sensation then and there.

It is usually the close relatives, affinities, and good friends of
the patient who are present. If the shaman is known for his dra-
matic performance, persons particularly attracted to religious
spectacles also seek entrance. The shaman decides who may at-
tend. Often fear of impiety or of witchcraft is a selective factor.

The ceremony ordinarily lasts four days, and the events open
to the public take place on four consecutive nights, starting
after dark and continuing until midnight. These are not inflex-
ible rules, however. Food — often an abundant feast — is provided
by the patient's relatives at the conclusion of each night's per-
formance.

Every shaman has paraphernalia of his own which he uses in

his rite. Many of these ritual objects have a logical association

with the power source.

Usually, when a person gets power through some animal, he has four tokens
of the animal with which he works — perhaps the hide, claws, tail, and paw. If
his power is from lightning, lightning-struck twigs may be there. If the power
comes from a bird, perhaps the tail feathers of that bird will have a place in the
ceremony.

There are a number of ritual objects which appear in almost
every ceremony:

A shaman has pollen, paints, herbs, and a drum. Eagle feathers are usually
used. Some wear a cap or a vest of buckskin when they sing. Some have a tray
basket at their ceremonies with pollen, paint, and eagle feathers in it.

Pollen, the symbol of life and renewal, is omnipresent on ritual
occasions. Tule pollen is used most, but the power may request

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 261

the substitution of pollen from pinon, oak, pine, sunflower, or, in
later days, corn.

Besides the substances and objects already mentioned as cere-
monial gifts to the shaman, many others, supplied by the shaman
himself, may be used in the rite. Some of these are: white clay,
red ocher, coral, rock crystal, opal, jaspar, gypsum, snakeweed,
grama grass, the bezoar, the enema tube, and a decorated "age
staff" upon which the shaman leans during his songs.

After all have come together, the shaman rolls a cigarette and

blows smoke to the four directions :

He smokes ceremonially, sends the smoke up. First he puffs to the four direc-
tions. As he blows smoke to each direction he says, "May it be well." He might
say as he smokes, "There are good and evil on this earth. We live in the midst of
it. Let all be living in peace. I want nothing to harm us. We only want food and
other good things."

An impromptu prayer calling upon the power source for aid is
likely to follow the ceremonial cigarette:

This woman is in poor health. I want her to live. She has been searching for
something good. This evening I hope that what is wrong with her life will dis-
appear and that she will have a good life. Now I am going to tell you something.
You must do right now what you promised me to do. Your power must go into
the life of this poor woman.

At this juncture, that the patient by his belief and the audi-
ence by their "good thoughts" may please the power source and
insure its co-operation, the shaman may describe the acquisition
of his ceremony and its virtues. Another gesture implying faith
is the reciprocal marking of the shaman and the patient with a
sacred substance. Pollen is most often so used, but specular iron
ore, red ocher, or white clay may be substituted. "Every shaman
is known by his individual way of using pollen. Some put it to
the four directions and up and down, some around the back of
the neck and on the shoulders of the patient. Each man keeps
his own way." The shaman may even mark everyone present in
like manner, drawing the entire gathering into a spiritual broth-
erhood. The pollen, like all ceremonial objects or substances em-
ployed in the ritual, is held first to the cardinal directions, be-
ginning with the east, and then moved in a sunwise circuit.

262 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Some shamans next seek to learn whether they will be able to
relieve the patient. One ceremonialist has, in recent times, looked
at the sick person through a black silk handkerchief to determine
this. Another draws the moon or a star with pollen on the palm
of his right hand, and figures appear for him which permit him
to prophesy concerning the outcome.

To determine the cause of the ailment and to learn what he
must do to cure it, the shaman sings and prays. In this way he
attracts the attention of the guardian spirit with whom the songs
and prayers originated. He may sing without musical accom-
paniment, or he may beat time with a curved drumstick on the
pottery drum that has been thus described:

Women make the pot. Men fix it to sing with and make the drumstick. The
drum is a piece of buckskin stretched over a clay pot. Water and four pieces of
charcoal, each the size of the end of my thumb, are put in. The charcoal is re-
quired for a ceremony. It makes the sound good too. The water is to keep the
buckskin damp. The buckskin is wet and stretched over the mouth of the pot.
It takes several men [to fix the buckskin in place]. It is sounded until it is right
and then tied. Then four little holes are made in the buckskin. If this is not done,
it will not be much of a drum. It helps the sound and is of ceremonial importance
too. The drumstick is made of any kind of green wood that can be bent. Oak
is sometimes used for it.

Less frequently the musical accompaniment is a rattle of some
kind. Rattles of eagle claws and mountain-goat hooves have
been mentioned for shamanistic rites. Occasionally, the shaman
has an assistant who drums for him and aids him throughout the
rite.

The songs are formal and unvarying for any one ceremony.
The prayers tend to be extemporaneous, however, reflecting the
need and the occasion. The song, and often the prayer, is divided
into four parts or verses, all alike except for different associa-
tions of color and direction. The traditional color-directional as-
sociation which is found in the mythology is black for the east,
blue for the south, yellow for the west, and white for the north.
Shamans take repeated liberties with this scheme, but for any
one rite internal consistency is maintained. It is at the second or
fourth verse of a song or prayer, or at the end of the second or

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 263

fourth song, that the shaman ordinarily receives the message he
awaits.

He may hear a voice, see a vision, or receive information in
some other way. The sign is often for him alone; those around
him know what is happening only when he interrupts his ritual
after a visitation and addresses his power. Power may simply as-
sure the shaman that the disease has been correctly diagnosed
and that he need only complete the rite in its briefest form. For
more serious illnesses, it may advise tests to determine whether
the patient will recover, or it may suggest a plant remedy and
give instructions for its administering.

Often medicinal herbs play a large part in the curing:

P. performed cures too. In his ceremony he would ask for it, the thing that
would cure the sick person. You'd hear it on the roof. Then it was before you, a
plant. He wouldn't take it up at once. He'd sing over it and talk to it first.
When P. asked for it, it would come right through the crowd and land on the
buckskin before him.

To produce some ritual object, to extract the "witch," or to
demonstrate the potency of his supernatural source, the shaman
may employ legerdemain :

Something I saw him do is more than anything I ever saw others do. As near-
ly as I remember, it was about 1888 when I saw B. go through his ceremony in
Alabama. Word was sent out to meet in one place where B. was going to sing.
A good many met there. It was a very pretty night, moonlight; everything was
still. He called them all around. He spread a clean white sheet right out there.
They lit some lanterns so you could plainly see any little bugs that walked on
that sheet. He sat right there. He put a basket there. People crowded around
watching him. I sat very close; I was pretty religious in those days. When some-
thing like this was going on, I'd be over there first.

Before he started he said, "Some of you people never believe anything. You
people who want power, watch this." He took his shirt off and was naked from
the waist up. He took a piece of turquoise about as large as your thumb and as
green as could be. He said, "If any of you people can do what I'm going to do,
I'll believe in you. I can do it. This is solid turquoise. Look at it."

So they passed it around. They handed it back to him. He held it out. While
everybody was looking he put it in the center of the sheet, far from him. He knelt
down on both knees. Everybody was watching closely.

He said, "You people don't believe in anything. There's a turquoise here.
I'm going to pray first. As soon as I stop praying I'm going to start to sing.
During the singing watch that turquoise closely."

264 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

He knelt down with arms outstretched. He prayed in a low tone. I couldn't
hear all of it. He prayed to Yusn, Child of the Water, Cloud, and other things.
He prayed for a long time.

Then he told us, "Watch that turquoise. It is going to be here in the center of
my breast." And he held his arms outstretched with his hands open and began
to sing Between songs he told us to pray for our own good.

While he was singing, that turquoise disappeared. Everybody watched, and
there it was right on his breast. And it started moving just like a little bug, going
to his right arm, then moving up his arm, around his back to his other arm, and
then back across the left arm to his chest. It was just like a little bug walking
around on his back. And before you knew it, it was in the center of the sheet
again. Everyone was praying. They believed there was something to him.

A shaman may also resort to such exhibitions to prove the
hopelessness of a case:

My father looked at the boy. He took two eagle tail feathers and stuck them
down the boy's throat. He wobbled them around. He took the feathers out, and
big worms were there on the white calico. They were big and they were fighting.
My father said, "They are hungry. That means no lungs are left. I can't do any-
thing for you. If you had come earlier, I could have cured him. But it is too

late." He burned up the worms They took him [the patient] back

He died.

If the cause of the illness is found to be witchcraft, the shaman
may be counseled by his power to continue his songs and prayers
with greater intensity and thus defy the witch. At the proper
time (usually the fourth and last night) and under the direction
of his supernatural sponsor, he sucks out the object of witchcraft
with his lips or a tube and spits it into the fire, where it "pops."
As the sorcerer's "arrow" falls into the fire, the onlookers spit,
thus symbolically ridding themselves of things unclean. Objects
of many kinds are sucked from the bodies of patients: "A bone,
a stick, horsehair, a needle, human hair, a little buckskin pouch,
a spider — these are the kinds of things taken out."

The traits which have been described are the ones most fre-
quently represented in a curing rite, but occasionally other
modes of treatment appear:

A shaman may, after working over a sick person or sucking on the place that
hurts, make a hissing noise to the directions, as though driving away the disease.
This is called "to blow away from him." Some specialize in this.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 265

.... They make steps of pollen just like those made at the girl's puberty rite
and have the patient walk through. Anyone else who wants to can walk through
after the patient finishes. They call it the trail of long life.

The ground drawing, too, may be an important feature of a par-
ticular rite. The one discussed below was used against epidemics
as well as to foil the enemy.

I do not want to draw it because I do not know it. No one transferred the
power to me, and it would not be wise for me to try it. This ground drawing was
used in war too. Once it was used when I was there. A regiment of cavalry and a
regiment of infantry were after us. This shaman drew the picture in pollen on
the ground and left it there. Then we retreated to a hill. Both regiments turned
off the trail and went back by a roundabout way, though the trail was plain, and
they could have kept going. That is the way the ground drawing works. When it
is used like this, the enemy is unable to follow. Something happens to the enemy
always. They give up before they get to the place of the ground drawing, or they
cannot pass it.

Death in a near-by home is the one event considered serious
enough to halt a ceremony already started. "If there is a death
in the camps, they stop any ceremony going on. They won't
pray even. The ceremony has to be started over again. It can
start the day after the person is buried."

Almost without fail, at the conclusion of a ceremony, the
shaman imposes some food or behavior restriction upon the pa-
tient:

A Chiricahua, in the house of another, always asks if he can do anything
before he does it. His host might have had a ceremony performed after which he
was told not to let people smoke before him, step over him, or do any of a number
of other things. We have to be careful not to disobey any of these things and
cause sickness or harm to a friend.

The shaman restricts his patients. He tells some not to eat liver, entrails,
heart, head, or not to let anyone step over them, or stand to the east of them
when they are sitting down, or suddenly appear behind them. Or he might tell
them never to let the shadow of a buzzard fall upon them, or, if someone gives
them a piece of fruit and it drops, not to pick it up again and eat it.

Usually these restrictions are scrupulously respected:

One woman here was shot. She had a curing ceremony performed over her by
one who specializes in gun wounds. He told her she must not eat deer meat, and
to this day she will not do so. I know her well. Once I offered her deer meat, and
she would not take it.

266 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

I went to visit C. I stood in front of him. He said, "Don't stand over me.
Someone performed a ceremony for me and said that no one was to stand over
me.

I never eat tongue myself. I had a ceremony performed over me when I was
young, and at the end of it I was warned not to eat meat from the head of any
animal.

A food taboo which becomes too irksome can be ceremonially
lifted, however:

The shaman tells you sometimes not to eat tongue or liver. If you don't want
to keep away from this, after four days you cook liver or whatever it was he told
you not to eat. Then he comes and marks it with pollen, puts it toward your
mouth three times, and the fourth time you eat it. Then it is all right. This re-
movel of the restriction is called "one can eat it again."

At the conclusion of the ceremony the shaman may present
the patient with a curative or protective amulet to hasten re-
covery and to prevent a relapse. This may be one of the four
ceremonial gifts required by the terms of the rite, but more often
it is something especial made by the shaman.19

Often the shaman gives the woman patient a piece of decorated buckskin to
wear on her hair. A turquoise bead might be given a man and a piece of abalone
shell to a woman. Sometimes a buckskin jacket or cap is made for the patient by
the shaman. Sometimes it is a feather, sometimes a cross. The patient is directed
to wear this after the ceremony so the disease will not come back any more. Bags
of paint or pollen are sometimes worn for good luck after a ceremony. Different
shamans give different things to wear.

Before the shaman departs on the fourth night, payment is
made to him. Usually an understanding has been reached in ad-
vance. Sometimes the gifts are in view during the entire last eve-
ning, for supernatural power is well pleased when its ceremony is
generously rewarded. More than the agreed amount may be
placed before the shaman. Then, because the ceremonialist is
grateful to the patient, he is expected to continue to pray for him
and ritually protect him. In fact, some resentment may be felt
when a shaman does not maintain interest in a case:

J9 In 1909, on the field expedition already mentioned, M. R. Harrington col-
lected a large number of these amulets from the Chiricahua Apache. These ob-
jects are now in the Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation, in New
York City.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 267

That shaman knows my wife is worse. He knows she got sick just before his
boy died. We moved over there and had our camp near his. He didn't do any-
thing. I've done a lot for that man. I gave him a steer when his daughter had
her puberty rite. I've taken him other food. He thinks I should keep right on
doing things for him.

Often the service that a shaman has rendered his client is the
basis for closer friendly relations. Although the process is in-
formal, this bond is an important one for many individuals.
"There is no set rule that a cured patient is under obligation to a
shaman, but sometimes a person himself feels that way."

Where a ceremony ends in failure, the shaman does not suffer
irreparable injury to his reputation unless he has expressed him-
self too confidently concerning a favorable outcome. The result
may be attributed to the fact that the shaman was not called in
time or to the strength of an opposing witch. The ultimate effects
of the rite are not always at once obvious, though it is hoped that
the ceremony will pave the way for steady recovery. Should that
recovery lag, it may be accounted for by the patient's careless-
ness in the wearing of the protective amulet, or by his failure to
observe strictly the taboos. That a shaman may succeed in one
case and not in another is conceded. To "try" the ceremonies of
a number of practitioners before relief from some tenacious ail-
ment is obtained has been the experience of a large percentage of
adults at some time in their lives.

CEREMONIALISM IN ACTION; OBTAINING AND USING POWER

Mountain People. — The functions of the Mountain People and
of their most important representatives, the Mountain Spirits,
are well illustrated in the myths. One tale describes the curing of
two children, one legless and one blind. Abandoned, these two
try vainly to follow their people. The blind boy carries the crip-
ple and is guided by his directions. Then the Mountain People
appear and conduct the boys to their "home."

Many people lived in that mountain. They dressed all kinds of Mountain
Spirits for these boys. They prayed and began to sing. There were women in the
mountain too. The women made the sound, the cry of applause, as they do at the
big tepee during the girl's puberty rite now.

268 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

By the ceremony of the Mountain Spirits the boys are restored to
bodily perfection and are returned to their parents.

Another story tells of the flight of a man from a large force of
traditional enemies. He runs, praying, toward a place known to
be a home of the Mountain People. At his appeal, Mountain
Spirits swarm from the cliff wall, surround the enemy, and drive
them into a cave which then closes upon them. This myth em-
phasizes the protective role of the Mountain People who guard
the tribal territory and defend the people from enemies and dis-
ease.

Another tale calls attention to the care which must be exer-
cised during the masked-dancer ceremony and indicates the
prominent place of the clown in the ritual. A shaman informs
the people that he is going to paint masked dancers at a moun-
tain far from the camps. He advises everyone, except the danc-
ers and those who will assist him in preparing them, to stay on the
flats below. Particularly does he warn parents to keep their chil-
dren away from the place, and he reminds his hearers that they
are not to call the names of the dancers when the performance
begins. A little girl creeps up to the forbidden site, nevertheless,
and mentions the name of an impersonator when the dancing
starts. The shaman, immediately aware of what has occurred,
tries to intercede for her with the Mountain People and finally
conceals her under the fire. Soon Mountain Spirits come and dis-
place their impersonators. On each of the first three nights a
Mountain Spirit of a different color vainly leads the search for
the miscreant. On the fourth night Long Nose or Gray One, the
clown, heads the line and succeeds. For her impiety the girl is
slain.

Another myth stresses the penalty for disrespect toward the
Mountain Spirits and suggests the association between the
masked-dancer rite and ceremonial defense against epidemics.
Masked dancers are joined by two mysterious strangers who
are superlative performers. The people seek to learn their
identity. After the dance of the fourth night, riders stationed on
swift horses pursue the two strangers. But the fastest mounts
are outdistanced, a rock wall opens to receive the runners, and

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 269

the mortals realize that they have pursued actual Mountain
Spirits. "Not long after that disease broke out among them and
killed many of them."

The Mountain Spirits are held in such fear and reverence that
those who have no ceremony from them are hesitant even to dis-
cuss them. One man explained, "I'm not supposed to tell stories
about the Mountain Spirits because it is dangerous for me," and
another said: "In order to use another word besides Mountain
Spirit in the stories, a term 'man from the mountains,' is used.
This is put in the story a few times to show that the Mountain
Spirits are held in awe and to prevent harm befalling the teller."

Masked-dancer ceremonies, though they may be later taught
to others, always originate in a personal supernatural experience.
The following account is a good example of the type.

My father is a shaman. He got his ceremony when he was a young man. It
was this way. You know that Guadalupe Mountain over here. It is a religious
mountain, a holy mountain. My father says that this place is the home of Moun-
tain People. He says a spirit came to him and told him to go into that mountain.
Someone talked to him, but he did not see anyone. It was outside the mountain
that something, or someone, told him to enter. That was the first time anything
had spoken to him; he was getting his first power.

When he thought he heard a voice telling him to go into the cliff", he turned
around and started to enter the mountain. The cliff opened like a door. He says
that the clown met him at the door. The clown said, "Follow me," and they
came to the first outside door. Near by was a great rock turning around and
around. They call it by a name that means "rock that swings around together."
My father says he was frightened, but the clown told him, "Don't be afraid.
You must go through four doors, all different. Don't be frightened because the
rock is acting this way." Then he said, "Sh! Sh!" pointing his forefinger at the
rock, and the rock stopped. He told my father. to follow him. They went on.

They came to the second door. There were two great snakes there, twisting
and squirming, and biting at each other. They were guarding the door. They
were not really biting each other, just trying to. They were not allowing anyone
to pass. The clown said, "Do not be afraid of them." The clown went ahead,
and my father was close behind. The clown said again, "Sh! Sh!" pointing his
forefinger at the snakes, and the snakes stopped twisting and biting.

So they passed the snakes and went on to the next door, the third door. Here
there were two big mountain lions, one on either side of the door. They were
trying to keep everyone from going through that door. They had their mouths
open, and when they saw my father they were just wild. The clown said, "You
must not be afraid; they are not going to hurt you." The clown went on ahead,

270 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

and when he came to the mountain lions, he again pointed his finger, saying,
"Sh! Sh!" and they quieted down. My father and the clown went through the
door.

Then came the fourth door. There was nobody in there at the door. All these
doors were rock. At the fourth door the guide again repeated, "Sh! Sh!" and the
door opened. Wheivmy father got into the fourth room, it was just as if he were
in high mountains.

After the last door had opened, my father looked about a hundred feet away.
There was one old man sitting over there. The guide said, "That man is going to
talk to you now, and you want to be very careful. He is the leader in this place.
We are going to walk right up there, and he is going to ask you some questions in
a rough voice, but don't be afraid. Now he sees you coming with me."

So they started to walk up to that old man. He was sitting in a big chair in an
open place. He was an old, old man, with garments over his head and all around
him. The clown told my father, "When I take you up there I am going to leave
you, and he will talk to you. Don't be afraid. He is a kind man."

The clown and my father reached this old man. Then the clown said,
"Ready!" and disappeared. This left my father standing there alone before that
man, and that old man sat up looking angry. My father was standing right in
front of him.

Then the old man said to my father, "What do you want in here? You have
no business in here." Then my father was frightened. "You tell me what you
want. You are not allowed in here; humans from outside are not allowed in
here."

But my father said, "I want to live long in this world, and I want to be
blessed. I want to live to be an old man."

"All right, you mean it, do you? You think you are going to be afraid?"

My father said, "I will try not to be afraid; that is not what I am looking for.
I am looking for something good for myself and for my children, so that they will
have some blessings. I have wanted to go into some holy place like this one I am
in now. Will you help me?"

The old man said, "All right. I have talked roughly to you, but I will do what
you say. I am a kind man. I have control of this whole mountain." Then my
father says he saw some hills all around there.

The conversation went along like this with my father and the old man.
"What kind of power do you want?" the old man asked him. "I have some very
strict rules, so strict that if you fail, you are going to die. They will harm you,
and if you fail them you are going to lose your life or some of your family. I tell
you that beforehand. What kind of a shaman do you want to be?"

My father answered, "I can't tell unless I see what you will give me." He
wanted to be shown.

The old man said, "You just wait a minute."

Then he got up. He could hardly get up; he was a very old, old man. He
walked behind a little hill in there. He came back and took his seat. Then my

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 271

father said he could hear things ringing, drums, and singing just like the masked
dancers dancing — Apache drums and singing. He heard it in the east as if many
dancers were coming. And then they came in from the east, the clown leading
them. Many Indians dressed in buckskin and Mountain People came, dancing.
Then they stopped right where he was. All kinds of birds, animals, and snakes
came behind the Mountain People.

The old man told him, "These are the ceremonies I have here. Which do you
want? Pick out the one you want and don't make a mistake."

When the old man finished speaking, my father said, it seemed that it was the
privilege of those animals and Mountain People to say what they wanted to him.
One little bird came up to my father and said to him, "I am the greatest power
on earth; take me." Then the eagle came up and said, "I am the greatest power
here; take me." Then the animals came up, also the snakes, and said the same
thing.

My father says he thought of it from the beginning, of how the old man said
not to make any mistake. So my father turned around and thought, "These
little birds are too willing, and these others are too willing. There are some others
sitting over there. I must not make a mistake."

He saw that the Mountain Spirits were the leading ones in there. So my
father hesitated and thought, "Well, the clown and the Mountain Spirits haven't
said anything to me."

They came around with a drum, with turquoise and a pollen cross on the
drum. "The clown and Mountain Spirits say nothing, but they are good," my
father thought. So my father turned to the old man and said, "I will take the
Mountain Spirits."

That is the way it is today. Just as soon as he chose the Mountain Spirits, all
the rest were ordered to go back. Just the Mountain Spirits were left. After all
the birds, snakes, and animals were gone, there came many Indians, all dressed
just like Chiricahua Apache. They started singing. My father has told me,"I
was going through the performance. I got all the songs and designs. For four
days I made masked dancers with a different design every day on each one." My
father was learning the ceremony.

The old man said to him then, "You have done well. You did not make a mis-
take. I was watching you. The birds, animals, and snakes asked you to choose
them, but you did right to choose the Mountain Spirits. They are the most
powerful, the best thing here. Now you are going to stay here and have a good
time for four days."

My father says that after this the Indians gathered, and they began to dance
just as they do at the girl's puberty ceremony. White Painted Woman ran just
as the girls do now. So my father in four days learned the whole thing. My father
called the mountain "Holy Mountain." He says that he gets messages from
these people whenever he holds his ceremony. When he wants to know how to
cure a man, they come and tell him. He says they talk. He stayed another four
days and four nights there.

272 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

After four days the old man asked him, "Do you have what you want?" My
father said, "Yes."

He said, "You didn't make any mistake."

My father answered, "I hope not."

The old man explained, "This is a good thing for you. The Mountain People
will take care of you all your life. You can hand the ceremony down to anyone
you want to. You can do anything you like. If the ceremony is given to your
child, you will not have to ask for any ceremonial gifts; but if it is passed on to
other people, then you can ask for gifts. But if you love someone else, you can
hand it down to that one without gifts."

The Mountain People gave him directions. "You cannot sing these songs for
nothing." So today my father is hard to convince on that.

After the four days, when this old man had told him he had what he wanted,
the Mountain Spirits had all gone. Then the clown came. The old man ordered
the clown back. The old man told my father, "That is all. I am through with
you. Everything is all right. I hope you have a long life in this world. You may
go home and use the ceremony according to what the Mountain People want you
to do."

The clown had to take my father back through the mountain. They had to
come back through those doors. They came again to the big mountain lions.
The clown said, "Sh! Sh!" and told my father to come right behind him. They
returned to the snakes. The snakes tried to stop them. The clown said, "Sh!
Sh!" and then told my father to come right behind him. Then they reached the
last door, that great rock swinging around and around. The clown stopped there
and said to the rock, "Sh! Sh!" and to my father, "You come right behind me."
And they went through. Then they came to the cliff. The clown said, "Sh! Sh!"
again, and the whole thing opened like a door. The clown started to walk down
the steep bluff. He said, "You must come behind me." My father says when he
first went up there the spirit lifted him up suddenly, but now he had to follow the
clown down or stay where he was. He did not think he could walk down the cliff
but he followed the clown, and they walked down easily.

The clown said, "Here are four things I am going to give you." He gave him a
little eagle feather, a very fine feather, and said, "This is one." He held something
in his hand and said, "This is a small round turquoise with a hole in it. That makes
two." He put the feather through the turquoise. He said, "If you are going to
sing for a sick boy, the parents of the boy or his other relatives must give you a
turquoise with an eagle feather like this. If he really wants to get well and be-
lieves in you, he must also give you a live thing, a horse or a cow, or anything you
want, but it must be alive. The turquoise and eagle feather are used only in
curing men and boys. The other gifts, which girls and women must give you, are
the changing abalone and pollen. They must be tied in this way: the pollen must
be in a little buckskin bag, and the string must be put through the hole in the
abalone and tied in this way."

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 273

The curing rite in which masked dancers appear conforms to
an easily recognized pattern. Its salient features are well de-
scribed by one who has acted as an impersonator on many occa-
sions.

If a sick man wants a ceremony of the masked dancers put on for him, he has
to feed the helpers, the ones who dance. And the shaman has to be paid a whole
lot. I've danced for my father's ceremony. His ceremony doesn't have to be at
night. If it's nice weather, it might be during the day. He can paint any number
of masked dancers — two or four, but not one; there must be more than one. It's
hard work to dance like this. I'd rather not do it. They go there and dance
around that sick person for four or five hours. I'd rather get out on the feast
grounds and dance [at the girl's puberty rite]. I get more pleasure out of it. This
other is tiresome work.

This is the way I have seen my father do his ceremony. Let us say I am a
pretty sick man. I ride up on my horse. I come in with my turquoise and an
eagle feather through it. I have pollen in my hand in a buckskin bag. I take
some of the pollen in my right hand. I hold it up to the east, then I turn to the
south, then to the west, then to the north, sunwise. I say, "My father (whether
the shaman is my father or not), I hope with what you know I can get relief." I
say to him, "This is your power," and I place a cross of pollen on his right foot.
The shaman is sitting with his fingers touching his knees. Then I take my pollen
and bring it up to the knee, then to the fingertips, down the left leg again, to the
left foot, where I again make the cross with pollen. I still have the turquoise and
eagle feather in my right hand. I either tie it to the buckskin string on his right
moccasin or else just put it on there and he will pick it up.

Then I will be standing before him and say, "There is my horse standing just
as I got off him, with my bridle, saddle, and blanket. I am a poor man. I want to
live. I have given you all I have." Then I sit down.

Maybe he will not say anything for a while. I look as sick as I can so he will
take pity on me. I am waiting for his answer. Finally he says, "All right," if he
wants to take the case. He knows I am sick and have to be attended to right
away. He says, "Bring your blankets and stay here."

He has to have a brush hut, and he must use two kinds of trees, juniper and
spruce, to make a corral. It is up to him to fix the corral, or he can ask my
parents or relatives to help him. I will be outside in the brush hut.

Now the shaman goes out and gets four young men to act as masked dancers.
He comes back with them. My relatives are all working on the corral. They
leave an open space facing the east, another doorway facing the south, another
facing the west, and one facing the north. They make a fireplace in the middle of
the corral.

I am taken into the corral. While my relatives are finishing the corral, the
shaman is painting the masked dancers in the brush hut. I come in and await

274 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

instructions. The shaman is with the masked dancers. He sees that everything
is all right.

The shaman and the masked dancers come into the corral from the east when
they are ready to begin. The shaman will be singing songs and may be dancing a
little. The masked dancers are following him. He goes to the fire, walks around
it clockwise, then_ goes on and comes back to the east. He tells the masked
dancers to go around the fire four times and worship the fire four times. The
masked dancers trot once around the fire. Then they back up and advance to-
ward the fire again. They do that four times, and at the fourth time they make
their call. They repeat the same thing, going around the fire once, but stopping
this time at the south. They worship the fire in the same way from the south,
west, and north.

The old man says to me, "Put your blanket right there." Then he goes to his
masked dancers. He says, "There is a sick man over there. He wants to go
through this ceremony." He tells me he is going to bring the masked dancers in
to me. He says, "Are you able to sit up?" I answer that I am.

He says, "Have you pollen?" I reply, "Yes, I have it." I have some pollen in
an open buckskin bag in my left hand. I have another turquoise with an eagle
feather through it.

The shaman stands with a drum. I am facing the masked dancers. The
shaman tells me, "All right, go ahead and put the pollen on the masked dancers."

I do this the same way I did it to the shaman. The leading masked dancer is
dancing. I make signs to the directions, and the leader has to lean down so I can
put the pollen on him. I put the turquoise on the leading dancer too. Then he
stands aside and I do the same thing with the pollen to the next masked dancer.
He then stands aside and I put the pollen on the remaining dancers.

Now the shaman asks, "Are you able to stand up?" And I answer, "Yes."

He says, "Maybe it will be good for you to stand and let the masked dancers
work on you." So I stand up.

Then the shaman asks, "Where is your pain! What is ailing you?" And I tell
him it looks as though I am very sick in my legs.

"On which side?"

"This side."

Or I may have a headache all the time that nothing can cure. If this is what I
say, he tells the masked dancers who are standing there, "This man has not been
relieved of his headache. Now I want you men to work on him. He is going to
stand here."

He tells the masked dancers to come to the front of me. He is singing. He
wants me to stand and let the masked dancers work on me. Many Chiricahua are
watching me. The masked dancers begin to dance back and forth four times.
The fourth time the leading dancer will shake his sticks with a weaving motion
and cross them on my forehead. And pretty soon he takes hold of my hair on
both sides and pulls as hard as he can, gives a cry, and lifts me up. He blows

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 275

away the sickness to the east, south, west, and north. Then the masked dancers
go around me once and stop on the south side. Then they come back to me and
go through the same thing from the other directions. Then they go out of the
corral.

The shaman asks me if I am tired and want to sit down. I say I would like to
sit down, so they bring my blanket into the corral. I am sitting in the center
alone.

When the masked dancers hear the drumming and singing start again, the
leader begins to wave his sticks and dances around the corral four times, the
fourth time stopping at the east. This blesses everybody in the corral.

The shaman tells the masked dancers to come in. The dancers face me. While
the singing and drumming are going on, they dance around me four times. Then
the shaman stops them.

He says, "All right, go around the fire once." While the singing is going on,
they start to dance. Every once in a while the dancers blow to the directions to
blow the disease away. They go around the fire once after they get through with
me. All the time the singing is going on. Then the masked dancers go through
the east door. Then they come back, dance around the fire, and go through the
south door, dancing and blowing things away. They repeat the same thing
through the west and north doors. They do all that has been described for four
days or nights.

On the second or third night, if the shaman wants to see whether I am going
to get well, he takes the abalone and comes up to me where everybody can see me.
He sings and prays and holds up the abalone. Four times he puts the abalone
against my forehead, and, if it sticks there by itself the fourth time, I am going to
get well. If it falls off, I am not going to recover. He also uses a feather. He tells
me to open my shirt, takes the feather, and points the quill end at my chest, over
my heart, four times, so that everybody can see it. If it sticks on the fourth time,
there is hope of my living. He uses either the abalone or eagle feather or both. I
have to open my shirt, and the feather is put right on my heart. If they both
drop off, he says, "I can't help you." But he can't stop before the fourth night,
even though the eagle feather and abalone fall.

If these things fall or if I am getting worse, he talks and shakes his out-
stretched hands to his power. He talks to the Mountain People, who promised to
help him. He says, "I have been paid for doing this and now you have got to help
me." Sometimes tears run down his face and he cries, "I am going to make this
man well! Even if the power does not help him, I am going to cure him!" He is
angry and fights it out with the power that has made him a shaman.

The shaman does not tell everything that is going on. His spirit or vision
may tell him that it can't do anything for me, but he fights it out with the spirit
or vision.

I may get well before the fourth night, but if I am really sick, I may not get
well for some time. The shaman tells me whether I am going to get well or not,

276 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

and he tells me that I must follow certain rules. For instance, for a headache I
must not put a knife in a cooking pot.20 If I violate the rule, the disease will come
back on me again. Or he may tell me to have the door of my house to the east.
If I don't do this, if I violate this rule, the Mountain People will know whether I
have done this or not, and the disease will come back to me.

It is up to the sick man to make gifts, anything he wants to give. After the
fourth time the sick man is taken back to his own camp. In cases where the
feather drops or the abalone drops, after the shaman leaves the man, he will keep
on praying until the man gets well anyway.

A Mountain Spirit shaman can also perform his rite without
any dancers. If there is a sudden emergency, if the full ceremony
would be too costly for his patient, or if he cannot find enough
dancers, he uses only the headdresses which the dancers custom-
arily wear, placing them against the body of his patient and ges-
ticulating with them to the directions to send the sickness away.

Many ceremonies cure the sickness of individuals, but the pre-
vention of epidemics is a signal function of the masked-dancer
rite. "When I hear of disease coming, I paint them and tell them
to chase the disease away with the sticks," said a Mountain
Spirit shaman. "When sickness is around, the masked dancers
and the clown are made on a hill and then come to the people
below, making fires on the way down. In this way they keep
sickness away."

It is at such times that the clown, who merely acts as messen-
ger and funmaker at the girl's puberty rite, may come into his
own:

The old man always told us that the clown was the most powerful of the
masked dancers. He said, "People think that the clown is just nothing, that he is
just for fun. That is not so. When I make other masked dancers, and they do not
set things right or can't find out something, I make that clown and he never
fails." Many people who know about these things say that the clown is the most
powerful.

At times of danger or epidemic another masked dancer, Black
One, is sometimes made:

There are different grades of masked dancers. There is the clown, and he is
dangerous. Then there is Black One, and he is supposed to be very dangerous.
Black One wears nothing but feathers on top of his mask. He is painted black.

20 There is a general prohibition against stirring food with a knife.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 277

He does not make a noise like the other masked dancers and does not mix with
the others. Any others that touch him will be harmed. Just one is made. He
wears juniper boughs on his arms. Sometimes he carries sticks.

The one who is dressed to stand for Black One does not have the wooden
frame above the buckskin face mask. He just has feathers in a bunch at the top
of the mask. He wears a buckskin mask, all black. He is colored black all over.
He carries spruce in his hands, and spruce is tied to each arm too. He wears a
skirt of woven yucca which comes down long. He doesn't dance. Black One is
just made for something bad, to keep everything bad away.

All three types of masked dancer may appear in the same cere-
mony to stave off epidemics:

It was during the World War when the "flu" was first coming this way. D.
called all the people together. He was going to keep it away. He made the regu-
lar masked dancers and also Gray One [clown] and Black One. He wanted to
pick out the best man for Black One. He tried to pick me out, but I said, "I don't
know the ways of Black One, and I might make a mistake, and things might not
turn out right." So I was one of the regular masked dancers instead. S. and I
were the regular masked dancers, and R.'s boy was Black One.

The people were very quiet when this was going on. They said that we were
two of the best dancers ever seen. We had a good clown there. He said, "You
fellows certainly put on a good dance." Black One said he saw nothing but fruit
and flowers around the fire, so D. said, "All is well."

D. told the people then, "Don't say anything bad about this sickness. Don't
mention it, or it will come back."

For a while no one died. Then someone mentioned it, and the sickness began
to come again. D. took us up on a high hill. The wind was blowing dust from the
east. D. pointed to it and said, "That wind is bringing sickness back. I'm cer-
tainly sorry, but I can't help it. I told you about it. I warned you of it. Now it's
too late." And it was true. The sickness came back, and many died. F. made his
masked dancers, but it did no good.

This sickness died down. Then it came a second time. The second time it
came, D. did not make his masked dancers. He didn't make Black One or any of
them. He said, "All of you were safe. There was no sickness. I helped you. I
told you what to do. But now it's coming back. I can't stop it."

When the sickness was on its way the first time and D. made his masked
dancers, I went over to his camp. Many were camping around his place. He had
his masked dancers there, and the people stayed around the masked dancers and
marked them with pollen. All these people camping around him kept well.

In this ceremony it was Black One through whom the Moun-
tain People transmitted their message. But this is not always the
case. Most often it is the leader or one of the members of the

278 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

regular masked-dancer group who receives the word of the super-
naturals.

Some men when they dance say they see visions from the singing and praying
of the shaman. I never did. I never saw a thing. Y. did though. It was in 1903
down at Fort Sill. There was smallpox. Lots of Indians were dying. We danced
for four nights, from four in the afternoon until one or two at night. That was the
hardest work I ever did. And you know, we never got that smallpox! It was all
around. The Comanches had it. They were dying in Lawton, but we never got a
case.

When the old man painted us he said, "Now one of you men is going to see a
vision. I don't know which one it will be, but it will be one of you." I doubted
it. I was a fool in those days. I didn't care. I just danced for a good time. Y.
was the leader.

I watched Y. when he got the vision. This was the first night. The old man
said someone would get it that night. We started out to dance at about four
o'clock in the afternoon. The old man said it would have to be started while the
sun was still up. There was a big crowd; Comanches, everyone was there. They
put pollen on us dancers. We started dancing. We had to do what the old man
told us. We had to go four times this way and that, and around the people. I was
watching Y. He began going fast, shaking, running out to the woods and back.

About three hours later we rested for a while. We were smoking. Y. said,
"Fellows, the old man said someone was going to see a vision, and I saw it. But
that's all I'm going to tell you. I'm going to tell it to the old man, and if he wants
to tell it to you, all right." Later I heard him tell the old man something, and the
old man said, "That's good!"

Masked-dancer ceremonies conducted for the public good are
usually undertaken in response to requests from a number of
people: "We asked R. to put on a ceremony for us, but he is too
weak. So another man and I have been trying to get F. to make
masked dancers for a long time. He did it the other day."

A number of protective masked-dancer rites have taken place
in recent years. One, held to prevent the penetration of sleeping
sickness, is described by a man who attended it.

Yesterday F. held his ceremony to keep away sleeping sickness. I didn't feel
so good when I came back yesterday, so I went over. I thought that perhaps F.'s
masked dancers would help me. The masked dancers performed once in the day
and once in the night. He painted four regular masked dancers and two clowns.

The grounds were fixed this way: there were four spruce trees set up, one in
each direction, and a fire was built in the center. To start the fire, they first put
up the sticks like a tepee. The singers came in from the south and went around

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 279

the fire clockwise four times. Then they took a place to the east of the spruce,
facing the sunrise. Then F., the shaman, went around the fire once. Then he
called to the masked dancers, "Now it's your turn."

They came in from the east and advanced to the fire and back four times. On
the fourth time they gave their call. They did the same thing from every direc-
tion. Then they went around the fire four times, then around the outside of the
trees four times. After that they came in from the east and stood in a single file
facing the fire. Then F. told the people to paint the masked dancers. It took a
long time. The dancers knelt so the children could reach them, putting their
sticks on the ground.

This started about one o'clock in the afternoon. The night ceremony lasted
until morning. Later F. gave a little talk. He said that he didn't think the sick-
ness was going to spread this far but that it was best to make the ceremony to
make sure anyway.

The masked dancers not only act to keep illness away but
"they can find out what the trouble is when people are sick." If
witchcraft is discovered, the impersonators may have to expose
the sorcerers. "The dancers should not point with their sticks at
the spectators unless the shaman tells them to look for an evil-
doer. Then they point him out. Usually the leader of the dance
group is used for this."

Even the control of the weather is not beyond their function.
On several occasions when the performance of the masked danc-
ers at the girl's puberty rite was threatened by stormy weather,
I have seen the shaman gesture to the directions with a head-
dress in order to drive the clouds away.

A myth tells of the freeing of animals from the subterranean
land where they were kept by Crow. There is the present belief,
perhaps a corollary to this, in "animal homes," places within
caves or mountains where the game is hidden. An example will
indicate the type of "animal home" story that is common.

About eight or nine years ago there was a big snow at Whitetail. E. was
hunting deer over there. He was on horseback. A deer jumped in front of him,
and he started after it. He saw it disappear in a cave. Then he came on and met
us. He told us, "The old people tell us that the animals come from caves in the
mountains, and I believe them now." He told us the story of the deer he had
chased.

Two others went to that cave with him. They followed the trail and found a
hole there. They dropped a stone, and it sounded as though that hole were very

280 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

deep, so they came back. People tell of homes of the mountain sheep like this too.
They see the holes and the trails of the sheep going to them. I have heard of
homes of animals in Hot Springs country too.

In this tale and in many others there is no attempt to link the
animal home with the Mountain People, but in a description of
the place where the first moccasin game was played there is a
hint of such a nexus. "At the bottom of this mountain is a hole,
a cave. In there the Mountain People live. Inside, it is about
eight feet square. There is nothing but deer tracks there. The
ground moves there."

It is evident from some descriptions of the Mountain People
that they are considered not only the denizens of a given moun-
tain but also the custodians of the wild life ranging in the vicin-
ity. Often the power-acquisition stories have the "holy homes"
of the Mountain People richly populated with game animals.
The most unequivocal statement on this subject came from an
Eastern Chiricahua who said:

All the animals, horses, sheep, come from the mountains. The Mountain
People keep them. They take them in at night sometimes and let them out to
graze here on earth during the day. R. killed a big buck here. It was cut [cas-
trated]. That shows that the Mountain People make steers too.

Anyone who is in the vicinity of a home of the Mountain
People, whether he has power from them or not, sprinkles pollen
toward the holy place and prays, "Protect us from enemies and
do not let harm befall us while we are near you." Those who are
in need are advised to appeal to the Mountain People: "A man
who made masked dancers said, 'Any time you are in trouble or
in danger from animals, pray to the Mountain People, and they
will come from the mountains and protect you.' "

Life Giver , Child of the Water, and White Painted Woman. —
The nebulous and remote Supreme Being is definitely not the
source of any particular ceremony:

If a man felt that he was having bad luck, he might go out and ask Life Giver
to help him. A man might get a ceremony of some kind at such a time in answer
to his prayer, or he might just be helped out of his present trouble. If he gets a
ceremony that will help him right along, that ceremony will come from some
other source, like lightning or an animal, and not directly from Life Giver. But
his prayer to Life Giver starts it.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 281

When a person has a special ceremony, from Lightning, for instance, he will
pray directly to Lightning and will not call on Life Giver. But many feel that
Life Giver is answering through this other source. Life Giver is an old concep-
tion.21 The very old Indians pray this way. Some old Indians who don't know
the first thing about Christianity the way the preacher speaks of it, pray this

way We think of Life Giver as a spirit of no particular sex. We do not

attribute deeds to Life Giver. No pollen would be thrown to Life Giver.

Child of the Water figures prominently in religious traditions
and ritual. However, it is believed that his work was largely
completed when he departed from earth. Though he once busied
himself prodigiously with the affairs of man, now he is almost a
sky-god, magnificent and rather remote. Occasionally, someone
believes that Child of the Water has "talked" to him. One in-
formant was certain that this supernatural was reaching him
through the medium of dreams, for instance.

For ceremonial purposes White Painted Woman is the femi-
nine counterpart of Child of the Water, and the time of her di-
rect impingement upon worldly affairs, too, is at an end. Per-
haps the most important use of this supernatural in rites now is a
symbolic one. For instance, in a certain lightning ceremony the
earth is referred to as White Painted Woman. This symbolism
proves to be a dramatization of the legend of the birth of the cul-
ture hero. Just as lightning strikes the earth today, so White
Painted Woman lay down "while the lightning flashed four times
and acted as a man to beget Child of the Water. This is why the
three are connected, and to this day White Painted Woman is
mentioned in the lightning ceremony."

The ideological association between the earth and White
Painted Woman is found in more than one context. "In any

21 Despite this insistence on the antiquity of the conception of Life Giver, a
good guess would be that the present position of this deity is a response to Eu-
ropean doctrine. The word that has been translated Life Giver can be literally
rendered "the one because of which I live." The individual still refers to his per-
sonal supernatural power source by that same linguistic form or a slight variant
of it. Life Giver is apparently a symbolization of supernatural power as such, the
reservoir from which particular power grants and ceremonies flow. The Euro-
pean influence in this greater personalization of diffuse supernatural power can be
inferred from the synonyms for Life Giver, which are Yusn (from the Spanish
Dios) and "He Sits in the Sky."

282 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

political speech or religious speech .... the world or earth is
called 'Earth Woman.' This really refers to White Painted
Woman. The real way to say 'all the people of the earth* is to
say 'all the people on the top of Earth Woman.' ]

A shaman once had a girl impersonate White Painted Woman
to symbolize the feminine principle:

He chose a little girl, nine or ten years old, and marked her and told her to
come up and give food to the patient. Then he prayed again. Then the little
girl picked up the food and first gave the patient the soup .... marked with
pollen and an herb. She picked up the spoon which the man had marked with
pollen, but the ceremonial man made four motions with her hand to the mouth of
the patient, and then said, "You give him all he wants. It won't hurt him."

.... The shaman said, "That part of the ceremony I performed where I took

the girl to feed the man — she was part of the ceremony She knew the

power of Woman; that's why I used her. Woman, White Painted Woman, is the
power I was using. If the patient had been a woman, I would have used Child of
the Water [i.e., a boy].

Thunder {lightning). — Sage is a most generally used prophy-
lactic against lightning sickness. A spray of it is usually worn
during rainy weather, and some is hung up in the form of a cross
in the home. Cudweed is another plant for which similar prop-
erties are claimed. But, in spite of all safeguards, lightning
sickness does occur, and a ceremony to cure it exists.

I received my ceremony through a dream when I was a young man. I just lay
down and dreamed that I heard a voice, and the words of my songs were re-
peated. The giver said these words of the song in my ear while I slept. I believe
that this power came from Thunder.

I have cured boys around here. I tried to perform a ceremony on my daugh-
ters when they were sick, but they did not want it. They did not allow me to do
it, and they died. They did not believe in it. I performed this ceremony for my
son. The white doctor said there was no hope. I said to the doctor, "If there is
no hope, I would like to take him home and be by his side when he dies." I took
him home and performed the ceremony for four nights. The boy began to get
better at once. The doctor was very surprised when he saw the boy around again.
He said, "I didn't expect to see you well and around!" This was about seventeen
years ago.

My ceremony cannot tell who a witch is.22 I have no power over that. If I do

22 It is a comment on the degree of individuality among practitioners to note
that another lightning shaman who believed that most witches were more power-
ful than shamans said, "The one exception is the man who gets his power from
Lightning or Earth Mother. He has control over the witch."

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 283

not get a man well, I know that the man is mistaken about his trouble. If I get
a person well, I usually get other payment besides the ceremonial gifts. For the
ceremonial gifts I must receive a horse, a piece of turquoise with an eagle feather
stuck through a hole in it, and an unblemished buckskin, these four things. They
must be given before the ceremony starts. I have the feathers on my hat and the
turquoise I wear through the ceremony.

The ceremony can take place in the day or the night, but it has to be con-
tinued for four days or four nights. If a person got struck or frightened by light-
ning in the afternoon, the ceremony would begin in the afternoon. I try to begin
it at about the same time of day or night that the experience with lightning oc-
curred.

First of all in my ceremony I smoke. I blow the smoke to the four directions,
calling each by its color name. Then I call on Thunder and say, "Before you did
this to him, this man's body and spirit were in a healthy condition. Now he is
sick. I plead with you to breathe some of your spirit into this man, to make him
over as he should be."

I have to have medicine for the sick person too. To make this medicine I take
wood from a tree which has been struck by lightning, burn it, take the ashes, and
put them in cool water. Scrapings from abalone shell are put with it too. With
the ashes I make a lightning design (a zigzag) on the four sides of the cup. And I
make the lightning design on the man's face, running it into the mouth. I pray,
and while I pray I raise the cup upward four times, then toward the patient
three times, and make the patient drink on the fourth.

Then I begin with the songs. This is my first song:

He in the sky who is holy,
He who is Black Thunder
Who put up the earth,
He zigzags down with life
To impart life to her body;
He in the sky who is holy,
Black Thunder, my father.

This same song is sung to the other directions; the color terms alone change.
At the end of the second song I push the chest, back, and sides of the patient with
my hand four times and then blow the evil influence away. While I am singing,
I am asking help of my power.

After the four songs I pray again. This last part changes to suit the occasion.
Then the ceremony for this one day or night is finished. This power of mine
comes from Thunder. Thunder power carries you to old age.

I have a hat that goes with this ceremony. I was ordered by a dream to make
the hat. I do not use the hat in the ceremony or use it at all. I was told in my
dream that the hat would just be for luck in the ceremony. But the hat belongs
to Lightning; it belongs to this ceremony. It is copied after the old way.

I lost this hat one time. Later I was walking with four men. We were hunting

284 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

deer. I saw a deer and ran to head it off. When I got to the point where I thought
the deer would pass, I saw one of the men waving, telling me that the deer had
gone back. It was raining a little. I started to go back. I went a long way look-
ing around. It started to rain again. I began to look again. Close by, the light-
ning struck. I went to the place where it had struck and found the hat. This
caused me to believe in my ceremony more than ever.

There is one other function of the lightning shaman, the mak-
ing of amulets of various kinds to be worn as a protection against
lightning and lightning sickness.23

Some say Lightning talks to them. When the lightning strikes a place, these
people can go to the east of a pine tree that was struck and take a piece of wood.
They shape it like this [a crude resemblance to the human figure with some fea-
tures poorly indicated] and put it on them. They wear it suspended by four
strings. The painting is done with a blue mineral and black specular iron ore.
If this is made for a person, he won't be hit by lightning, and he won't be fright-
ened by lightning.

Plants. — Occasionally, a plant is personified and becomes a
source of ritual. One plant, now much used for wounds, revealed
itself in a vision experience to a man who was wounded in battle
and fell on it. The plant pushed him upward four times and spoke
to him, telling him to chew the root, to rub some of it on the in-
jury, and to put the unused leaves back in the ground. The man
obeyed directions, recovered, and was able to reach his home and
introduce this remedy.

A plant, as well as an animal, acted as supernatural guardian
for a successful raider:

This happened long ago. The enemies used to know many ways to stop you,
to make your legs ache so you couldn't get away with horses. My father was
down in Mexico with a band. They drove away a good herd of cattle, burros,
and horses from the Yaqui.

The Yaqui came on the trail. One of the men of the Yaqui knew a ceremony
and was working against the Chiricahua. The Chiricahua had seen cacti thrown
on their trail, and now they knew what it was for. They got cramps, their legs
hurt, and they couldn't go fast. They were in danger, for the Yaqui were catch-
ing up.

For his raiding work my father mixed Wolf and Cactus [a small variety of
hedgehog cactus type] together. They asked him to sing and he did. He found

23 Among the ethnological specimens collected by M. R. Harrington from the
Chiricahua Apache at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, in 1909 were a number of lightning
fetishes.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 285

out what had been done against them. He saw that the enemy had used cactus
with a spider's web. This makes the toes twist [gives cramps] and makes the men
fall off their horses. My father found it out and let them have the worst of it.
He went to the edge of camp and "shot" four cactus plants on the back trail.
They had no trouble after that.

Antelope and deer. — Deer and antelope ceremonies have as
their primary function the securing of game, but other uses for
such power exist, such as the employment of the deer ceremony
in love rites. The usual deer ceremony is direct in intent and
execution. It consists in prayers and songs to Deer the night be-
fore the hunt, bespeaking the singer's need, and instructing the
animals to give up some of their hide and meat. The ritual may
include placing a certain grass under the pillow the night before
the hunt, refraining from mentioning the ordinary names for
game animals during the expedition, or observing other rules.
Often the mountain where the hunter intends to seek his kill is
named in the songs.

The test of a deer or antelope shaman's relations with his
power source is the success with which he can predict when,
where, and in what quantity the game may be obtained. For
some shamans the ability to produce or to find game almost at
will has been claimed.

Many knew about deer, but A.'s father knew more than the rest. One man
wanted to bet with him [about which one knew more on this subject]. The great
man did not want to bet. "I don't know anything about deer," he said. The
other begged him to bet. "All right," he said then, "I'm going to make a deer
come to that oak. I'll make him eat of it. I'll shoot him there. You do the same
to the other oak with another deer. If you can do it, you know as much as I do."

But the other refused "I don't mean that. I mean that we should go

out hunting to see who kills a deer first."

"No, that has nothing to do with power. Now you want to change the bet."
But the other man backed down.

The individual with a deer or antelope ceremony uses it in
many ways. He prepares the deer and antelope heads used in
stalking game and sings over them to imbue them with the bene-
fits of his rite. Because his practical experience is augmented by
supernatural knowledge, such a shaman is requested by parents
to instruct their sons in hunting. Moreover, since good fortune

286 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

on the hunt is of constant importance to all grown men, those
who do not possess such supernatural help, when they have been
unsuccessful for any length of time, go to a deer or antelope
shaman and hire him to perform his ceremony on their behalf.
The concept _of animal homes is frequently encountered in
connection with hunting rites:

A long time ago they made arrows of lightning for the Indians. There was one
little cloud up in the sky, and the lightning from there killed a deer. All the time
the Indians used to eat antelopes and deer killed by lightning.

One time a bunch of men just like these Indians around here got together and
were talking. They said, "If we have lightning to kill things, pretty soon there
will not be anything left on this world." So the old men talked about making
arrows out of carrizo. They took this reed which is hollow and put inside it a
foreshaft with a mark like a crawling snake.24 They could shoot with it then.
They did not have guns in those days. The Indians had bows and arrows in those
days, but they could not kill anything. The lightning would kill things for them
before this, but they could not find any game. Now the lightning would not help
them any longer.

One time they were almost starving. One man went out hunting and was
trailing some deer tracks. It was flat all over and there was a little hole out there
with deer tracks around it, but the man could not find the deer. He was looking
around where the deer tracks were and he saw a man coming out of the hole.

The man said to him, "What are you looking for? You have been looking for
a long time and you don't find anything."

The hunter said, "I am looking for deer. Their tracks are fresh around here,
but I can't find them."

The other man said, "Deer? What do you mean by saying 'deer'? I guess you
must mean my horses." Then this man added, "They were here this morning and
I just put them in the hole a little while ago." And then this man told the hunter,
"I will give you some ceremonial power and from now on you can see the deer
and you will have plenty to eat." This is why Indians can now kill deer.

When the hunter went back to camp that night, the others asked him where
he got the power to kill deer. They kept on asking and asking, but the hunter
would not tell them, for the man at the hole had told him not to tell, saying,
"Even if you come to other camps, don't tell or you won't get anything to eat
from me." But the Indians kept on asking and after a while the hunter got
angry and told them. And from that time on they were starving again.

Before continuing to another story which emphasizes the im-
portance of these animal homes, it is necessary to introduce a
belief relating to the hunt:

24 This refers to the fluting on the arrow.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 287

The old people are still afraid when the deer goes in a sunwise circle around
them and runs to the east. They say that when this happens a person has to fol-
low the deer and he turns into a deer. Several times when I've been hunting they
have run around and nearly made a circle. Then the thing to do is to get ahead
of them or shoot them. This fear of being circled is for deer or antelope.

The account in which the concept appears is as follows:

A young man went out with his bow and arrows to hunt antelopes on the
prairies. He found a bunch of them. He was wearing an antelope mask and got
close to them with it. He was trying to get close enough to shoot with the arrow.

They started to run before he got close enough to shoot. They ran in a sun-
wise circle around him and came back to the same place. Then they ran to the
east. He ran after them. The antelopes ran out on the plains to a place where
there was a little hill. Underneath the hill was a hole. They went in the hole,
and this man went in too. He changed into an antelope.

The boy didn't come home. Two days passed and then his father and kinfolk
trailed him. They saw where he had stood, where the antelopes had circled him,
and where he had run after them. They trailed him to the hole and saw his track
there in the fine dust.

They went home and hired a man who knew Antelope. A group came back
with him to the hole and he sang. He tried to make the boy come back. He sang
and prayed for four nights. The next morning the young man came up. He told
them to go away from the hole. They did.

Then he said to his father, "I can't come back. You've got to get used to be-
ing without me. Do not think of me any more. The reason I don't come back is
that I have many children now. I can show you my children. I can't leave
them." He called his father to the hole. "Tell the men to wait for you. You
can come in my home with me."

The father said, "All right," and went down in the hole with his son. He told
the men to wait for him.

They went into a place like this earth. There was a sun in there and moun-
tains. The young man showed his father many little antelopes and deer. That's
what he meant by his children. He called the place in there Antelope Home. It
is like summer there always, and the ground is covered with fine, soft dirt.

The boy told his father many things. Then he came up on top with his father.
He told his father to go home with his friends. He said to his father, "Maybe one
year from now, maybe three years from now, I'll come to you again. When you
are hunting antelopes and you see one big one behind, that will be I. If you
want to kill two or three, I'll help you, for when you come I'll smell you and let
you come close."

It is the one who claims special help from Deer who uses it in
ceremonial contexts most often, but the deer is so important
that it is of use to others as well:

288 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

If you have a good deer dog, burn deerskin and make him inhale it. Then he
becomes a good hunter. I had a sick hunting dog. I tried everything. The dog
was going down. I hated to lose him. So I got deerskin and rags and burned
them together and made the dog inhale the smoke. He got well too. I tried it the
last thing.

Buckskin, especially from deer which have been caught in
head nooses or otherwise killed without damage to the hide, is
in great demand for ceremonial gifts and for the making of amu-
lets. "It is the holy hide, used for ceremonial purposes. It is
supposed to come from a strangled deer, and the skin is supposed
to be unblemished. Child of the Water used it so on earth; that
is why."

When a hunter kills a deer, the carcass, the hide, and even the
offal are treated according to prescribed rule, but, since all hunt-
ers observe these usages, a description of them is deferred until
hunting methods are treated.

Bear. — A vision journey which resulted in the acquisition of a
bear ceremony is described by the son of the man who became
a bear shaman :

My father went across the plains twice, and the second time he slept at a place
just beyond the White Sands. He usually found his tribe in the foothills at Hot
Springs.

The second time, when he was sleeping at the place, something came to him.
It was close to the springs. He was a little up the hills on a rock. He built a fire
and went to sleep. He made a mattress of grass.

Close to morning he was sleeping there. He was sound asleep. It touched him
and told him to awake. It had something to tell him. He pushed the cover off
his head, and there sat a silver-tip bear. It spoke in a human way to him and
told him it was time for him to get up and that he was about to get something to
know and to travel by.

He got up. He knew that a door was open to him. He just walked right in,
into the rocks. He was led into a room, and the bear changed itself into the form
of a human and told him to follow wherever he went.

And so he showed him through the gate where the striking rocks were work-
ing, hitting against each other all the time. But they went through. Then they
came to a place where four points of rock went back and forth. They also walked
through that. They came to another rock that was rolling and was in the form
of a round ball, just like a hill. It hit the bank on the other side all the time. But
they walked over it and didn't even notice it strike the bank. Then they came
to the swinging rock door, and it worked as in many other places.

Then they came to two big bears, black and white, at a gate. My father's

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 289

guide told him to go on and they went through. On further they came to two
big snakes, a black one and a white one. But they went through. This time
something they never had seen before was present in the cave. It was the wolf,
the big timber wolf. There were two, a black one and a white one. The wolf
spoke to him, but he went on.

Then on further they came to two geese, a black one and a white one. When
they saw my father, they tried to fly, but they came to the ground all the time
because they felt pretty good. They said, "We know you. We have known you
all the time." That's what the geese said.

Everything went smoothly until they started to cross a place where there were
two moving logs used for a bridge. After my father crossed this bridge, he came
into another more beautiful place. He asked the guide what this place was. He
told him that it was the home of Summer25 right there, but he passed through
that place and then went to a crossing where a spider had a web for a bridge.
He also crossed this without trouble.

Then he came to a still more beautiful place. Very pretty flowers were grow-
ing there. All of these spoke. He asked what this place was, and the bear told
him that this was the home of the flowers and the herbs used for curing men all
over the world. "This is Medicine's home."

He went on. Then came the humans. The humans were working out in the
fields. They ran toward him and tried to show him many [supernatural] things.
He paid no attention to them.

Then he came to a place where there was nothing but beautiful women. There
were girls only there, dressed like White Painted Woman, who had just gone
through the puberty ceremony. The girl's ceremony was shown him there. That
was the home of the girl's puberty rite. But he paid no attention to this either.

On he went. He came to another land, and you could hear the drums beating
steadily. It was even more beautiful. There were different kinds of Black Ones
and Mountain Spirits there with different markings. It all belonged to the girl's
puberty rite. The man said to him, "If you want to be the leader of the Mountain
Spirits, you can take those four Mountain Spirits there. They are used in every
way. They are the leading Mountain Spirits, stronger than any you saw in any
other caves." There were twelve there altogether. His guide said, "You can use
only four a night. If sickness is in the country, you can use them." But my
father said, "No," and went on.

Then he was led out into the further end, and out before him was a big man.
There were four tables. The man showed him all, but my father said, "No, I
want to go to one stronger than you."

The man said, "No, they usually go no farther. This is the best." But my
father said, "No," and wouldn't take any of it.

He went into another room, and there in the middle sat another man with a
chair that turned either way. From him shone all kinds of light. And all around
him was green fruit.

25 The personification of summer is not unusual in these stories.

290 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The man studied my father. He said, "There is no human who has come this
far, passing the first man. What do you come for? You see many fruits here, and
there are things here that are valuable above all. What you ask for your own
good, for raising your children, I will give you."

My father said, "I come for one that is strongest. Are you the strongest?"

"No, there are two above me."

Then my father went on. He came to another man who was shining with a
yellow light before him. The light made it appear as though the wind were blow-
ing pollen from the trees around him, but it was not. This man also knew that
my father was not going to stop there. So he brought before him two yellow
horses with white tails. And a sort of wagon was there.

My father got in the wagon26 with a guide, and they came to a gate, a big
white gate. Everything was as white as could be, even the trees and fruit. Even
the faces of the people there shone, and before him he saw all kinds of things. He
bowed down four times, and the fourth time he was before a man in a big white
chair who had a white staff in his right hand. This man was the last one. This
man asked him how he got in and such things as that. My father told him all.

"We had better be moving," the man said, "for it is getting daylight."

So he listened and said "Yes" to everything my father asked him. Everything
my father wanted, he got.

"I hate to see poor people sick. I hate it when people are walking along the
road poor and without horses. I want to know what is best to do for them. You
can give me what you think is best."

This man sang and performed what was given my father. And it raised him as
though he had wings. There was nothing but clouds around him. Before him
everything shook, and there was lightning and thunder. Much was shown my
father, terrible things [witchcraft] and how to stop them.

The man handed him a staff. You'll always have this. It will speak itself. It
must never be lost." He told him what was best. And this, they say, was the
power of Bear.

After this he knew all the people and their ways and their thoughts, and what
was going to be done, and what was going to happen to them. Afterward he did
much healing, even for the whites and Mexicans. He was known in Comanche
country and by the Navaho.

The curing ceremony which stemmed from this experience
was recalled by the same informant :

He held a bear ceremony for four nights to heal the sick. That's as long as he
would continue it. He cured many diseases through it. He used it once on a
severe case of pneumonia, the worst case of pneumonia I ever saw. This was
right out in the hills. The girl had hemorrhages with it. I thought she was going
to die.

26 Note the elements of European influence in this story.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 291

My father sang the songs of the bear and found out what had to be done. He
was told that a mixture of different herbs had to be given right away. That was
to stop the bleeding. They got the strongest herb first. This one was pointed out
by the bear. My mother went and got it, and that night it was given to the girl in
four doses. It was given in pollen, and the bowl was lifted to her head four times,
then to her lips four times, and she drank it from the side that was marked with
pollen.

The next thing was to get after the pneumonia. The girl was stronger now.
My mother mixed up the second dose of the same medicine they had given her
before. They thought the second dose would surely stop the hemorrhage for
good. They gave the medicine to her four times again.

Then my father started in. He took the right front paw of a bear, warmed it,
and put it on her chest where it pained most. Then he took a bowl and put it to
her chest. He sucked. Blood and pus and suds came out and foamed up. He did
that four times. They had real good medicine for the pneumonia. It was the
blazing star.27 It was ground fine, mixed with grease and water; then they rubbed
her with it and wrapped her up with some of it on her chest. They tried to make
this ceremony short because she was weak.

The second night it went the same way. My father sang two songs. He
marked her with pollen. He used the bear paw, putting pollen on it first. He
sucked pus out of her again. It came out easily this time.

Now he waited two days before doing anything more for her, but he had my
mother continue to give her medicine. He saw that the girl was gaining and
getting well.

The third night he started in, he didn't know whether to suck or not. "There
is no use to suck. Let me look at her," he said. After singing he looked and saw
there was just a little pus left. "I don't think it is necessary to suck again," he
said. But he asked the bear. The bear said he had better take it out because that
little bit might get bigger. So he sucked it out. Before he sucked he always
marked the place with pollen and put pollen in his mouth.

The girl said she could breathe much better. She said she wanted to get well
quickly. She prayed all through the ceremony. That's why she got well so quick-
ly. Then the fourth night of the ceremony came. It was a short ceremony this
night. The girl was getting along nicely now. They just gave her the medicine.

Another account of the acquisition of a bear ceremony is of
special interest because the final paragraph suggests the use to-
gether of multiple powers :

A long time ago a group of men went far south looking for horses and cattle.
All the party except one man got killed, and, in trying to make his way back, he
got lost. In those days they dressed in a buckskin loincloth and buckskin jacket.

27 Two plants commonly known as blazing star are Liatris punctata and
Mentzelia multiflora.

292 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When they were cold they made a fire, pushed the ashes away, put grass on the
hot ground, and slept there. It kept them warm. This man had nothing with
him to eat, and the rain came and the buckskin got wet and stiff. It became very
cold, and he nearly froze.

He went to a hole in a cliff for shelter. Then he heard a sound above, and he
went up there. He saw a great cave between two rocks. He went in and found a
mother bear and two little bears in there. Bear looked at him and he talked to
Bear. "I'm about to die. Give me something to eat."

Bear said, "Come in."

He went in. The bear rapped on the stone wall, and a door opened. In there
was a room with a fireplace. The bear woman had a shallow basket in there, and
it was filled with acorns and wild fruit. She pounded it up nicely and gave it to
him. He sat by the fire and warmed himself and ate. When this man got back to
his people, he told them that bears were just like human beings. "They talk like
us and live as we do. When they go out they turn to bears," he said.

When he had eaten, the bear said, "My husband is mean. I don't know what
he will do to you. Sometimes he gets after me. But he is very fond of these chil-
dren. Take one of my babies and put it in your lap when my husband comes and
maybe he won't hurt you."

About dark Bear came. As soon as he came under the cliff he smelled man.
He got angry and growled like a dog. His wife heard him and told the man to
take the baby on his lap. Big Bear came in looking angry but didn't say any-
thing when he saw the child on the man's lap. The woman said nothing.

Then Bear said to his wife, "Did you feed this man?" Where did he come
from?"

His wife said, "He came in here nearly dying. I fed him and warmed him."

Bear sat down and said nothing. Then he began to question the man. "Do
you want anything more? You can have more." He acted like this because of
the baby.

"I've had plenty."

"Do you want to stay overnight?"

"Yes."

So they put the man in another room that opened when they rapped on the
wall. The next morning they opened the door and told the man to come out.
They gave him a good breakfast of all kinds of Indian fruit and meat.

"I've had enough," the man said when he had finished.

Then Bear told him, "Go on top of this hill and you'll find a cave there. In it
is water. Wash yourself and then get some good-smelling weeds, mix white paint
with them, and rub them over your body and face. It will make you smell better.
You smell bad; I noticed you all night."28

The man did as he was told. He went to the pool and bathed and swam.

28 This is simply a reversal of the notion that the smell of bears is offensive and
dangerous to human beings.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 293

Then he mixed weeds and white paint and put it over his body. He came back,
and Bear said that he didn't smell him any more.

Then Bear told him to take a good rest. "Meanwhile I'll go over and hunt up
your people."

He stayed at Bear's home four days. Four days later Bear got home again.
He lay down. "I'm very tired," he said. "I found your people far away. To-
morrow we'll start out, and I'll take you to them."

The next morning the man started out with the father bear. They walked all
day. About evening they came close to a mountain.

"Where do you want to stay?" Bear asked.

"In a hollow place," the man said.

"No," the bear told him. "It's better on top. It's warmer up there."

They went to the top and stayed there overnight. In the morning they started
again. The next day toward sundown they went on top again. The next morning
they started and walked all day. At night they went on top again. They carried
dried beef with cooked fat and berries in it. The fourth morning they arose before
sunup.

"Maybe we will find your people before noon," Bear said. "Then I'll go
home."

About noon they found many Indian camps. Bear said, "There are your
people. I'm going home now. After this if you or your children get lost, don't be
afraid of Bear. Go to Bear's home." Then Bear went home, and the man went
into his camp.

He found his wife and children cutting their hair off. In the old days they
sometimes cut the hair short and sometimes cut it all off for mourning. They had
killed all his horses and thrown away all the things he owned.

That bear had given him a ceremony with songs and prayers when he was in
that cave. Then, when he got back to his people, he helped them when they got
sick. When he healed sick people, he took a circular piece of rawhide, covered it
with buckskin, and painted Bear, Lightning, and Buffalo on it. That was be-
cause Bear had told him that Lightning and Buffalo were his friends and their
powers all worked together. He would make this for people and put a buckskin
cord on it and later give it to them to wear.

Coyote^ dogy wolf. — Details of a typical coyote ceremony have
already been given29 and need not be repeated here.

While sickness can be contracted from a dog, at least by a
child, a coyote or wolf ceremony is thought sufficient to remove
it. A certain amount of ceremonialism has grown up around
dogs, but these usages are for the benefit of the dogs and not to
cure ailments they have brought.

29 See pp. 40-41.

294 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When you want to train a dog to be a good hunter or watchdog, burn an eagle
feather for it.

I wrap up an eagle feather in cloth with the kind of flies that bother animals.
I burn this and throw a blanket over the dog's head so he can inhale the smoke.

If meat is rubbed on your feet and then given to a dog, that dog will stick by
you and be a good watchdog. It will love you and guard you.

This is the way to make a dog good for trailing. Cut up four pieces of meat,
spit on them, rub them on your moccasins to get some soil from there on them,
put the meat in the dog's mouth, and talk to him, giving him instructions just
as you would a boy.

Another way is to take a section of deer meat from the place where it swells
between the two hoofs. Put this with the feather of the buzzard or crow. Put
this to the windy side of the dog. Light it and make the dog inhale, saying to
him, "May you keep the trail." We use the buzzard and crow because they fly
all over and never miss a dead object. We use the deer meat so the dog will go
after deer.

A friend told me to chop up a little rattlesnake into four parts and to give it to
a dog with his meat. This is to be done when you want a fierce dog. It makes
him fierce all right, but it is too dangerous. The dog is hard to handle then, even
by the owner. The dog gets too mean, like a mountain lion. But if a man is far
out alone and is afraid, it might be done.

There is a certain prickly pear that is called "dog medicine." It is a general
tonic for a dog. You put it into his mouth whole.

The wolf has been known to offer a ceremony and special aid:

He smoked and prayed and went to bed again. He slept a little while and
then was waked up again. Before him sat a big timber wolf, white as snow. It
was the most beautiful creature, he said, he ever saw. He wanted to touch it but
was afraid to. Then Wolf took its paw and touched him and told him he needn't
be afraid. So he touched the wolf. The fur felt very soft and fine and warm. He
touched the four legs of the wolf, then touched his own legs and said, "Let my
legs be as strong as yours."

The wolf spoke to him and said, "I've seen you I came to you myself.

I will add what I can to the strength of your legs. You have done the right
thing "

Horse (muk, burro). — A characteristic horse ceremony was
obtained by a man who was raiding for horses:

Two men started south from their home. On the way a horse spoke to one of
them and gave him a ceremony. It happened this way. They were raiding for
horses. They got to a town south of Tucson and found some horses there. They
began to drive them off. At a certain place they stopped to rope horses to ride.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 295

They had to run the horses up the side of a mountain and were at the top. One of
them caught a gentle horse and got on it. The other roped a wild one, and when
he was about to get on, it pitched with him and threw him off. He lay there as
though he were dead. Only his throat moved a little.

The man who was left sat there crying. He didn't know what to do. He had a
little buckskin pouch of pollen tied around his waist. There was one old sorrel
horse standing near by. He marked the forehead of the horse with pollen and
asked the horse to help him restore his companion. He led the horse to the man,
from the east, and the horse put his nose to the man four times and neighed. In
the same way he led the horse to the injured man from the south, the west, and
the north, and the horse acted the same each time. Then the injured man began
to stir, and he got up and asked what had happened. The sorrel horse went back
to the herd then.

Later this sorrel horse talked to the man it had cured. It told him where the
two men should camp that night on the return journey. They followed this ad-
vice. The horse told him where to camp for the second night too. This was at an
open place, but the horse said, "Do not be afraid even though it is out in the
open." They camped in that place and were not disturbed. The third night the
horse told him that they should camp at a place called Sand House. On the
fourth night the horse told him that they should stop between two mountains.

Then the horse spoke to the one it had cured. It told him, "I'm old and I'm
no longer strong. I'd like to take you back to the place where you live, but I can't
make it. A man who is thin can make it back to his home. But horses are dif-
ferent. We have to be fat and strong. So after you start out tomorrow you are
going to miss me. But don't look for me. I am going back to my home. But I'll
tell you now just how to continue your journey, where to stop each night, and
where your relatives are now."

And the horse told him, "I give these songs to you. You will be a shaman
through the horse. If anyone falls off a horse and is injured, you can heal him
with these songs. These songs will cure even if bones are broken. And here is
some medicine to use for those who are hurt inside.30 But if the large cords at the
back of the neck are broken, the ones which hold up the head, this ceremony will
not be able to restore the person."

The men continued the journey as the horse directed and got back safely to
their people.

How this man effectively used the ceremony he thus obtained
is the subject of another narrative:

A leading man rode out with others to get horses that they had tied out some-
where. The rest came back, but this leading man was still missing. His family
were worried. Then someone saw his horse standing on a ridge. It was saddled,

30 Possibly "horse medicine" {Eriogonum jamesii) , of which it is said, "It is a
plant used in the horse ceremony. It is chewed for luck with horses. Give it to
horses, too, when they are sick."

296 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

but the man was not on it. A group went out to look for him. They found him in
a gully, unconscious and badly hurt. He had started from one hill to go to an-
other where he had a horse tied to a tree, when the horse he was riding stepped
into a badger hole, stumbled, and threw him.

They put him in a blanket, and four men, one carrying each end, brought him
home. They asked the man who had learned the ceremony from the horse if he
would bring the leader back to life. He said he would do it.

He told the people to get four poles like those which are used for the cere-
monial tepee of the girl's puberty rite. The shaman had the people make a tepee,
one big enough so that the horse could get in. He had them bring the injured
man in there. The doorway was to the east, and for a covering to it the shaman
hung up a big buckskin with the head downward and touching the ground. They
brought the horse which had caused the accident around facing the door and
took the rope off him.

The shaman, who was in the tepee, sang one song. The horse did not move.
The shaman went on to his second song. The horse just stood there and made no
sound. The shaman sang his third song. The horse stood in the same place. The
shaman grew angry now. He spoke to the horse and said, "Why don't you cure
this poor man? You are the only one that can help him. You had better do it
without delay." The son of the shaman came out of the tepee now. He was
angry too. He said to the horse, "You have done enough harm. There is no use
thinking more evil things. You'd better neigh and do what you are supposed to."
He hit the horse in the mouth.

Then the horse began to walk to the tepee by itself. The horse stopped at the
door, put its nose under the buckskin, pushed it up, and walked in. Then the
horse approached the man from each of the four directions in sunwise order and
neighed each time. Then it left the tepee. The shaman sang his last song.

In these songs the parts of the horse are given names, and the saddle and
saddle blanket have different names too. The back of the saddle is called the
evening star, the sides of the saddle are called clouds, the saddle blanket a cirrus
cloud, the saddle strap lightning, the saddle horn the sun, the cinch the rainbow,
and the buckle the moon. The forehead of the horse is called abalone and the
ears are the whirlwind.

When the last song was over, the man who had been lying there got up and
asked what had happened. He was all right after that.

A celebrated cure achieved by a woman shaman of the Eastern
Chiricahua band is of particular interest in that the use of the
"big tepee" has encouraged the practitioner to extend the anal-
ogy and to draw upon a number of the features of the girl's
puberty rite:

I saw an old woman who knew the ceremony of the horse. She died long ago.
She had songs for the bridle and for every part of the horse. She had many

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 297

horses, and all were nice and fat because she knew songs for them. She would
take wild horses and saddle them up. They were always gentle to her. When
anyone fell off a horse and got hurt, they went to her and she cured them. I'll tell
you what she did one time. I was so little I can't remember what was done in
there, though I saw it. But my folks and others remembered and told me.

One time a young man got a bunch of horses. With the others there were
wild horses and mules which had never been saddled or roped. He tried to get
one wild horse out of that bunch. He roped it and put the halter on it. He staked
it out for a while. Then he turned it loose on a long rope. He watered it and
tried to pull it back. It tried to get away. It circled him two or three times and
then started to run. The rope caught on his legs and he was dragged over a rough
place. Finally the rope broke and he lay there. His face, arms, and legs were
skinned. He was unconscious.

They picked him up and carried him to his tepee. Then his people went to
this woman and asked her to sing over the man. She came and looked at him.
"He's pretty much bruised up," she said. She didn't want to do it. But they
begged her. At last she said she would.

She started to work. I was there, just a little fellow then. She said, "I want
a bridle, a saddle blanket, a saddle, and a whip." She asked for those four things
because her power told her to. They gave these to her. She started to sing. First
she told the father of the boy to rope that same horse. He did.

"Tie him close to the tepee."

They tied the horse near by, under a big tree. She had them tie the head so
that the horse couldn't eat grass or drink water. "If that horse eats or drinks
during this ceremony, the boy will get worse," she said. She sang over this
young man four nights. She sang from sunset to sunrise for the four nights. The
horse had nothing to eat or drink for the four days and nights.

They were in a tepee like the one the Mescalero have. The last day at sunrise
she told them to take fhe cover off and leave nothing but the poles standing.
Then she told them to clean up the inside. The sick man was lying there. She
painted the sun on the palm of her hand with red paint and pollen. She sang and
rubbed it off on the man's face. Then she turned the horse loose. She took the
rope off. Everybody got away. The horse began to paw the ground and neighed
four times. Then it started toward the man. The horse went in there. The
woman said, "Take the blanket off that man," and they did so.

The horse licked the man all over and rubbed him all over with his nose.
Everyone watched. The horse was on the east side and it pawed there. Then it
went to the south side and pawed the ground. And it did this in turn to the west
and north. Then it went around the man four times and out to the east. It
looked around for other horses. It saw some and ran to them. Then this man's
senses began to come back to him and he got well.

A less elaborate ceremony, performed in an emergency, was
described:

298 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

It happened at Baharito. We were driving a bunch of wild horses. T. had the
gentle horses and some of us younger men were running the wild ones. P.'s horse
got his foot in a hole. The horse fell with him. The rope was caught around P.'s
knee and he lay like dead with his mouth open when we came up. After the horse
fell, it got up and walked a little ways and stood there. I was going to P., but
Old T. said, "Get away and don't touch him."31 So we went away and talked of
other things.

T. went to the east side and walked toward him, praying softly to himself. I
could not hear what he said. He touched him, kicked him four times under the
foot, put pollen in his mouth, and told him to get up. And P. did. T. went back
to where the horse fell and got dirt from four tracks and put it in P.'s mouth.
Then he got saliva from the mouth of the horse and put it all over P.'s clothes.

In recording ceremonial songs, the details of another horse
ceremony were learned:

This is R.'s horse ceremonial song. We were driving horses to Whitetail where
we were going to brand them. This happened at Whitetail Spring. There were
only three horses left in the corral. W. went across. Two others were in there
roping horses. The three horses started at once and knocked W. down. He was
nearly dead; he didn't come to for three or four hours.

Then R. worked on him. That's how I heard this song. He sang more than
this one song, but I just caught this one. If you ever get hurt from a horse, it will
fix you up. He used some herbs in his ceremony too

These are the words of the song:

The sun's horse is a yellow stallion;

His nose, the place above his nose, is of haze,

His ears, of the small lightning, are moving back and forth.

He has come to us.

The sun's horse is a yellow stallion,

A blue stallion, a black stallion;

The sun's horse has come out to us.

The horse ceremony is of great importance also in taming wild
horses and in securing fresh horses on raids. When it is used for
these purposes, the rite is confined principally to songs and pray-
ers.

Some knew how to sing before going on a raid. They sang to corralled horses,
so the horses would give them good luck.

Before leaving for raid or war, they often have a ceremony conducted by one
who knows the ceremony of the horse. This is so good horses will fall into their

31 After a mishap with a horse, recovery is speedier if the injured person is not
touched until a horse shaman takes charge.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 299

hands, so that their horses will be strong and carry them through, and so that all
in the party will have good luck.

Gambling is a serious enterprise, and horse-racing is one of its
important forms:

A horse shaman performs a ceremony over race horses used for gambling. I
have seen horses worked over like this. Horses which have been taken care of by
a horse shaman in this way always have an eagle feather tied just where the tail
bone leaves off. The owner of the horse usually gives the horse shaman some-
thing that has to do with a horse for his pay — a saddle, a blanket, a bridle, or
something like that.

Anything fast, like the coyote, the fox, the wind, or clouds, should be used in
songs to make a horse run fast.32

When a valuable horse is to be gelded or is injured or sick
(though "if a horse has been witched, you can't cure it"), the
owner is likely to consult a horse shaman.

T knew the ceremony of the horse. He knew a lot about the sickness of

this animal. I saw him castrate them. People brought the horses to him to
castrate. He treated horses that couldn't pass water and some that were going
blind too.

But often the owner, though he is not a horse shaman, injects
some ceremonialism into his care of his horse:

If a horse can't pass water, we have a little ceremony for it. Take a rope, hit
the horse on the back with it, and tie a knot in the rope. Do this four times. Say
prayers meanwhile. Don't hit the horse hard enough to hurt it. Then trot the
horse a few hundred yards and bring it back to the same position.

When a horse gets blind, they cut the vein leading down from the eye that's
getting bad. The horse gets well then. This is done to sheep now too. I have
done it to both. If a horse is sluggish, it is given a root called "black medicine"
which is put in oats or mescal or something the horse likes.

We practice bloodletting on a horse which is lazy. Then we put turquoise on
the cut.

Horses that are scary and jump sideways are fixed with eagle feathers. These
are tied on the mane or to the bridle. Then the horse doesn't get scared. I did it
like that at Whitetail myself.

32 The hummingbird is used as an aid in racing too: "Its feathers help in mak-
ing a man or a horse speedy."

300 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

As various domestic animals have become more numerous, the
horse shaman has seemed to be the logical person to cure them
and is now thought of as the one who "knows a lot about [domes-
tic] animal sickness." "These are the ones who take care of the
diseases of animals; they have a general knowledge of animals."

There is some difference of opinion concerning the material
benefits of a horse ceremony to the horse shaman himself. The
story of the woman horse shaman whose horses were sleek and
fine seems to bear out the statement of an informant who said,
"Some persons have a ceremony from the horse and have fit
horses all the time." But the opposite view is held by others.
"I think that N. had power from the horse. His horses were
poor. Some people say that a man with a horse ceremony has
pretty poor horses. He can help others but not himself."

Wild goose. — An excellent example of the special abilities
which a shaman may acquire because of the characteristics of his
supernatural guardian, is power obtained from the wild goose:

During the old times when Geronimo was around doing mischief, the Chirica-
hua used to get a band of ten or twelve and go to the Mexican border and drive
cattle home. A certain man got tired and was left behind. It got to the point
where they couldn't help him, so they left him behind. They thought he would
catch up. He was tired, hungry, discouraged, and had given up. He was thinking
all sorts of unpleasant things. It was pretty bad.

All at once Goose appeared to him and said, "What's the matter?" He said,
"I'm in a bad fix."

Goose said, "All right, I'll give you a certain ceremony, and you must obey.
You must follow my directions exactly."

He gave the man four songs. The goose spoke of feathers; it told him he had
to rub them on his right side. Goose is long winded and goes for many days.
Goose said to him, "I will give you my endurance."

It happened that way. He caught up to the others. Everyone was surprised.
The man was able to pass over broad flat lands without being tired out after that.
The one who told me this story says that he had this man sing over him; then he
won an important race.

Nighthawk. — An informant tells how he was cured by the
power of Nighthawk in a rite jointly conducted by two shamans:

Old Man D. and T. knew the ceremony of the nighthawk. I saw them per-
form it several times. They sang together. Both knew the same thing; one
learned it from the other. T. learned it from D.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 301

Once I was sick with a bad case of kidney trouble. I went to the agency doc-
tor, and he told me I couldn't get well. He said that I'd have trouble all the way
through and that one day it would kill me. One side of my face and one side of
my body were swollen. I got out of that hospital. Then, because they were dis-
tant relatives of mine, these two men sang for me and told me not to be worried,
that I was going to get well. P. was there, S., B. and his wife, and some other
people, the relatives of my wife. We were not alone.

When they started to cure me, they first smoked. Then they used pollen,
marking me on the face. Then they marked the faces of all who were present
with pollen. I did it back to these two men, marked their faces with pollen, and
the other people did it too. There were quite a few people present. The people
always like to listen. Some heard there was going to be singing and just dropped
in.

Then they started to sing. During the singing one of them was always drum-
ming. Sometimes it was one of them, sometimes the other. They sang about the
nighthawk, calling him Great Old Man Nighthawk, and asking him what it was
best to do to get me well. They used feathers of the golden eagle. One had two of
them sewed together and attached to his hand all the time.

Their power talked to them any time they asked him something, and they
asked him questions right in the songs. Then they would look at each other and
talk. One would say, "Do you hear that?" The other would answer, "Yes." But
we couldn't hear a thing. Sometimes they got a message, but they would tell me
they couldn't say anything about it until morning. They carried on the cere-
mony at night only for four nights.

When they first sang, Nighthawk spoke to them and said that they didn't
have to be frightened, that I'd be going along all right in a few days. I had been
laid up during February, March, and April. This was in late April.

Next Nighthawk told them that there was a woman present who knew herbs
and that it was best to have her use certain herbs on me. This was my own
mother. They directed her in what to do, according to the word of their power,
and she went out and gathered all the best herbs.

All during their ceremony they learned many things about my future. They
told me that in the future I was going to have land and own everything and have
children too. They said the first was to be a boy, and it was. And they said,
"You are not only going to have this boy but girls too. In the spring you are
going to plow. You will look up and see just one little cloud. And it will open and
rain first on your place." And it all really came true. In the spring I was plowing
back of East Mountain. It rained first on my place. It did this for several years.

The ceremony helped me a great deal. D. told me not to eat liver until I got
real well. By May, after the last snow, and when the birds first began to come, I
was well. And so I think the power of the nighthawk was certainly strong.

Owl. — When individuals are first troubled by the call of an
owl or by thoughts and dreams of the dead, there are measures

302 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

they may take, even though they lay no claim to a ceremony
from the owl. A man who was gathering wormwood {Artemisia
frigida), one of the plants known as "ghost medicine,"33 ex-
plained: "Sometimes when you feel nervous and don't sleep
well, you fumigate the house with this. People use it after a
funeral." Others tell of self-treatment that "could be tried by
anyone."

For trouble with ghosts I use "ghost medicine" and also ashes. I put a cross
of ashes on my forehead at night. The Silas John cross is used too. I used it last
night. A black-handled knife under the pillow is good for this too.

By scarring your nose with a live coal, you keep ghosts away. You take a
burning stick, wet it at one end, fix this end on your nose, and let it burn down so
that it scars your nose. Then the ghost will fear you and keep away. Ashes can
be put on the nose to keep away ghosts too.

But, though self-purification often succeeds in dispelling per-
secution, in a residue of cases the attacks are so acute that there
is no recourse except to consult an owl shaman. The ghosts are
of two kinds — those of enemy peoples and those of tribesman
(often of deceased relatives). Correspondingly, there are owl
shamans whose rites are effective against enemy ghosts, and
there are those whose ceremonies banish tribesmen's ghosts.

Most cases of enemy-ghost sickness result from battles.34 "If
a man who had killed an enemy thought he couldn't stand the
haunting, he went to a shaman who used an owl ceremony on
him." "If you have enemy-ghost sickness, you take a black silk
handkerchief, a cross, and a knife and give them to one who
knows songs for this. Then he can work for you. I've seen it

33 Others are squaw weed (Senecio filijolius) and sage {Artemisia filif olid).

34 It is unlikely that enemy-ghost sickness was ever very prevalent. Despite
general dislike of the sight of the dead, the ghosts of those known or continually
opposed in life are more likely to be feared than are the ghosts of persons who fall
under the general classification of "enemy." Some individuals evidently had
very little apprehension concerning the enemy dead. One old warrior said, "We
had little fear of killing at war. War was just a kind of sport. Few had fear of the
dead enemy." Another man, when he was asked whether one who killed a mem-
ber of another tribe was in danger, seemingly discounted the supernatural risks
altogether, for he replied, "Yes, the enemy might plan a raid to avenge the death
of the man he killed."

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 303

happen. Of the Chiricahua, R. is the only one now that knows
the enemy-ghost ceremony."

Since the more usual type of ghost sickness results from per-
secution by the shade of a departed acquaintance or relative, the
period immediately following a death is a trying one, and a pre-
ventive rite may be performed:

The Chiricahua, if someone dies, may call in a shaman to perform a cere-
mony. The day after the dead person is put away, this shaman will go through a
ceremony for them. The members of the family of the dead person look ragged.
They have put on their oldest clothes and cut their hair. The men and women of
the family have taken a little hair off, but from the children they have taken all
the hair off. They have burned up the clothes they wore before the death. They
move camp in any direction and go anywhere. Perhaps other people sympathize
with them and give them something. Then the shaman comes over and sings for
these people. This is to keep the ghost away. He goes through the ceremony he
knows. Some shamans paint the faces of the mourners red; some use white paint.
Each shaman has his own way.

Most ghost ceremonies, however, are conducted to cure ghost
sickness that has already been contracted. An owl shaman has
supplied an interpretation of his own ceremony and an explana-
tion of how he obtained it.

I cannot tell how my great-grandmother got this ceremony, but my grand-
mother got it from her. My grandmother cured many. She could only cure those
who were sick from the owl or whom witches had made sick through the owl.
Owl sickness just affects a person from the heart to the head. The Mexicans
killed my grandmother a long time ago. I got the ceremony from a strong mem-
ory. I kept in mind what she did.

After my grandmother died, an owl nearly killed a little child. Other people
knew that my grandmother had known about Owl. They guessed that I might
have the power too. So a certain woman came to me for help and asked me to try
this ceremony. I went to her home with her. I cured that child the same night. I
found that the power of my grandmother wanted to work through me too.

Now I can pray and I am able to get sick people well. My power can be used
only at night though. When I hold my ceremony, if it doesn't work after two

nights, I give up, for something else is wrong Or perhaps a witch prevents

the cure. Some witches have great power, sometimes more than I have. I can
only try to help a person for two nights. Then I have to give them up. The per-
son has to go to a more powerful shaman then, for some are more powerful than
I am. I cure through song, prayer, and strong belief with the ceremony of the
owl.

If an owl has scared a person into unconsciousness, someone comes for me,

3o4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

and I go to the person's camp for two nights. Those who want me to work for
them have to give me a black-handled knife.35 That is the rule: without it I
cannot work. They give it to me before the ceremony. When my ceremony can
help, even though an owl has frightened a person and he is unconscious the first
night, he is supposed to get all right the second night.

I work with ashes. That is part of the power. My grandmother used ashes
and nothing else. Before I do anything else I dip my hand in ashes and make a
sign of the cross with the thumb and the first finger of my right hand. Then
before praying I rub ashes on the patient. I mark the patient with ashes on the
forehead, the top of the head, and the breast.

Then I roll a cigarette. The sick person must puff toward the east. In case
the person is unconscious, I do it for him. Then I pray to the directions and send
his sickness away. On the patient's head there is something that I can see. I see
it that way on a sick person. And I see it on the breast of the sick person, some-
thing that sticks out.36 I paint the body of the patient with pollen, on both
shoulders and back, going around clockwise. I say prayers to the directions too.
I talk to the darkness [owl].

In my prayer to the east I say, "Let no one come back from the east to
bother this poor person again." I say this so all bad luck regarding the owl will
fly away from the patient. Talking to the owl, I say, "You are the one who has
done this. Never do this again."

At the south I say, "The downy feathers of the owl must not come back to
harm this person again. Stay away from this person altogether, because you are
the one who harmed him."

Next I turn toward the west and say, "This person doesn't want to eat. He
has something on his breast. Therefore do not allow anybody to come back to
harm this sick one. You are able to restore him as he used to be. For your own
sake and his, help him to get up again."

I speak to the north now, and I call on darkness too. "Make this person
strong. Help him eat again. Give him life again. And never do this again. Let
him live to an old age in this world."

I pray for just a little while, just as long as these prayers last. Then I start the
songs. The first song mentions the east and the south. The only words are,
"East, in its head, you listen." This is repeated four times. Then I turn to the
south and sing, "South, you listen." The second song just repeats, "West, you
listen; north, you listen." After these songs everything evil from the heart to
the head comes out. The third song mentions the flint cross. I make a low hum-
ming noise four times at the end of this song. The fourth song says, "In the

35 Probably a long black flint or obsidian blade preceded the black-handled
knife as a ceremonial present for this rite.

36 The materialization of ghost sickness as a shapeless black or white object
has been mentioned before. The inference is that this is really the ghost or the
owl, and sometimes it is said to assume the shape of one or the other.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 305

morning early, it goes to 'Cut-Grass-Sitting.' " "Cut-Grass-Sitting" is the name
of a place. It is called on because the song [ceremony] started from there. It is a
place in Old Mexico on the other [west] side of the Rio Grande.

Then I pray again, saying, "By tomorrow morning may all evil disappear and
go to the east. May all the sickness that was above the heart in this person go to
the west. From now on let him eat again." After this the patient says to me, "I
was sick. Now I am well. I never knew you. Now you have made me well. I am
well again. I am as I was before. If something like this happens to me again, I
will appeal to you."

After the four songs and prayer the ceremony is over for the night. I do this
for two nights. The songs and prayers are the same each night. I tell the sick
person to put the black-handled knife under his pillow for the two nights so he
won't get scared. And I tell him, "Don't eat tongue or liver."

Summer tanager. — Nothing is said in the following tale of a
curing ceremony from the tanager, but it is evident that the
bird acted as a guardian spirit:

J. M. tells this one. During his war days when he was young, there was a boy
he used to go with, just a young boy. This boy always sang like the summer tana-
ger, that entirely red bird. One time this boy camped out alone and was lost
from the group that was out raiding for horses. He was left at a water hole. They
were to pick him up on their return. Instead of picking him up, they went right
by and left him. He was crying there, for he had little to eat.

While he was crying, something lit in the tree above him. He paid no atten-
tion, for he was still crying. Then this bird came to him and touched him on the
head. "Don't cry. I have come to show you many things and to lead you to a
good country where you will be happy always. All your people are worrying
about you because you haven't come back. The ones who left you are already at
home. They brought a good bunch of mules and a herd of horses. But there are
a few horses and mules left, the ones that they lost on the way. Take them and
drive them back. I will go with you. Take my tail feathers. They will talk to
you and warn you of danger.

"The ones who left you here are saying wrong things about you to your family.
They are saying that you are dead. Your family is going to wait four days and
then cut their hair. So be back before four days. I'm going to lead you. Turn
this horse loose, catch the others, ride the black one first, then the second day
ride the gray horse. There will be seven horses (yours will be the eighth) and two
mules."

The boy was shown that he could see at night and see through mountains, and
whenever he asked a question it was always answered. He always had the feath-
ers ready in his hand so he could talk to them. The tanager also turned into a
man and rode with him.

Before sunrise of the fourth day the people at camp saw someone coming.

306 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The men got weapons ready. They went out to kill whoever was coming and to
take the horses away. They saw two men coming, but only one rode up.

The boy's father met him and asked, "Who was the other man?" The boy
said that he was alone. They did not believe him.

Reptiles. — How one man obtained a snake ceremony which he
used with signal success years later is related in the following ac-
count :

They say this man knew snake power better than anyone in the tribes around
here. On his hat he wore the rattlers of a snake and two eagle feathers. No mat-
ter how badly a person was bitten, he never held his ceremony in the day, but
always at night. He said he could cure snake bite on humans or horses.

This is how he got his power. He thought a bush was burning and went to see
whether it was and what had started it. He found that the bush was not really
burning and saw a big snake move from it. The snake was one such as had never
been seen anywhere. It had red and white stripes, yellow streaks on its side, and
very red eyes. The way it was throwing its tongue out was like a fire burning.
The man started to speak to it, but the snake didn't say anything to him. So the
man went off.

That night he camped out in a lonely place, for his home was very far away.
The raiding party he had been with was scattered by a band of soldiers. He had
only one blanket. He built a fire, roasted a rabbit, and, after eating it and saying
a few prayers, went to bed.

He was sound asleep when all at once something touched him. He threw the
blanket off his head and looked around but didn't see anything. He thought it
might have been a branch fallen off the tree under which he was sleeping, and he
started to cover up again. But he heard a sound, like something rubbing against
the tree, and a second time something touched him. He threw off the covers.
Nothing was in sight. He was about to go to sleep for the third time when the
thing came again. He paid no attention and tried to go to sleep. The same thing
happened for the fourth time, and he thought he heard someone come down from
the tree. He was pretty sure some man was playing a trick on him. It didn't
seem to frighten him a bit. He heard a voice, but he just kept his head covered.
He tried to recognize it, but he did not know the voice. He stayed still as the
voice came closer.

The fourth time it spoke, the voice said, "Wake up! Get up! Someone is
coming to see you. You've been asking for me. Here I am. What do you want?"

The man knew it was some kind of power, and, as he looked up, rubbing his
eyes, he saw a large snake. He started to cry out but changed his mind. The
snake told him not to be frightened, that it had come for a good purpose, to help
him out and give him good things which he needed. He said, "Very well," and
before Snake could speak again he marked it with pinon pollen.

Then the snake asked him what he wanted. The man said, "I want many
good things, for I like to help others."

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 307

The snake said, "I'll show you where these things are. Stand up and come
with me."

He looked at the snake again, and there was a handsome man, dressed in
Indian clothes. He carried a rattle made of a wild gourd decorated with eagle
feathers and with the feathers of many other birds.

A door opened in front of them on the side of a big rock. The sun was shining
in there, and it looked like daylight. Inside they had to pass a big crevice, too
wide to jump. A single spider had spun its thread across. The man asked,
"How do we cross?" and the snake said, "I'll lead you. Follow me." The man
said, "Two of us can't cross on that thread; it might break." Snake said,
"Come." They both got on and stepped across. The man seemed to be walking
on a wide board; the web felt stiff. It never bent or sagged.

After crossing this place, they came to another door. It was thrown open, and
a stronger light shone ahead. A great black snake was in their path. It had a
large mouth, and it rose up and struck at them. But the man was told to come
ahead, and so he stepped in front of the snake and continued.

Then they came to a blue snake with white eyes. From its mouth came
flames. They had to cross in front of this snake, and it bit at them. The man
stopped, but his guide told him to come, and he passed right in front of it.

Now they came to another place. A door opened and a still stronger yellow
light shone out. At the entrance was a yellow rock and a great yellow snake was
coiled on it, striking at them. The snake moved and rolled around. The guide
stepped right on top of the snake and told the man to follow.

Then they came to another big door. The guide spoke, and the door opened
to them. Inside there was still more light, and it hurt the man's eyes. But his
guide touched his eyes, and he could see again. There was a great white snake
with a big white tongue there, rolling in their path. The tip of the tongue looked
like fire, but there was no heat to it at all. The snake didn't seem to pay any at-
tention to them. The guide told the man to continue. They had to crawl through
the coils.

Finally they came to the place where there was a man sitting. He was in
charge of all these snakes and was very powerful. This one spoke to the Chirica-
hua and said, "My child, where have you come from? No man has ever entered
this place. Why have you come? Who brought you and who showed you the
way?"

The Chiricahua said, "That man brought me. You have power of all kinds
and that's why I've come. I want the best you've got to help me and my people."

The other replied, "I have many things here that you want. Those things I
show you, you can take. If you don't see them, tell me the things you want
most."

The Chiricahua said, "I wish to have the power Yusn gives, and Child of the
Water, White Painted Woman — things like that."

The man said, "I don't give that power, but I can ask for this for you. I am
going to give you power. Wait here until I get back."

3o8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

He walked away to a table made of rock and prayed. The clouds darkened,
lightning flashed, and it thundered, and the whole place seemed to shake. In a
little while this man came back and gave the Chiricahua something that stood
for his power. He took this thing and thanked the man.

The one who gave the power said, "I'm glad you've come here. Do not tell
others about this^br four years. We will let you know when to practice it."

At that the Chiricahua thought he was stepping out of one door, but he was
right at his bedding. There was nobody there. He heard the birds start to sing,
and he got right up. It was morning.

This power never spoke to him until four years were over. One time his child
was sick and he wanted to help his boy, but he had not been spoken to yet. He
prayed in different ways. He did his best but he couldn't do much for the child,
who kept getting worse all the time. Finally he hired a San Carlos Apache who
knew a ceremony. This man held a ceremony for four nights. The power which
the San Carlos knew told him that the father was going to have a ceremony to
heal, but that he could not use it yet. This San Carlos Indian said to the father
"Your power is stronger than mine. You hired me and you can cure the child
yourself. But I will do my best to help you, for you believe in me." He helped
him that much and the child got well.

One night, a little more than a year after this, he was wondering why the
power had not spoken to him yet, when something struck his tent and shook it.
It hit the tent from the four directions, from the sunrise first and around to the
north. Then the tent moved way up in the air, it seemed. It did it four times
that night.

The next day he was going after his horses to water them. He hunted and
hunted for those horses until close to sundown. He was tired out and started to
go back when a whirlwind came up, went to the four directions, came toward
him, and disappeared. As he stood there he heard a voice calling him by his own
name. "You have been thinking of me all night. The things you have seen are to
tell you it's time for you to practice the power you received in the holy place
where you have been. You've lost your horses and have been walking all day.
Your horses are a little way up the right-hand canyon. Soon they will come up
and shake their heads and rub against you. You can take them to water."

His horses came and he watered them and turned them loose. He got back to
his tent and thought of his power. He took out the object given to him in the
holy home and marked it with pollen of the cattail. Then he lifted it up to the
four directions and prayed with all that was in him. His wife and children
watched but did not know what he was doing.

He was being shown by his power what to use in his ceremony and what to
avoid. People who had power were shown to him in groups. One group had less
power, another more. He saw himself with the group that had greatest power.
He was shown a big eagle flying toward him, about to pick his children up. His
power told him that this did not mean that the eagle was going to take his chil-
dren away but that they would have power of some kind when they got older.

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 309

Above him he saw different people, whites and Chinese, and others. He knew
they had power, a different kind of power. Among his own people he saw people
who had the same kind of power he had; they were healers and shamans.

While it is not impossible for a snake ceremony to counteract
other ailments, it is most often used to cure snake sickness:

At Hot Springs there was a woman who was kin to me. She was just a little
bit of a woman, but she knew the ceremony of the snake pretty well. During the
time we lived at Hot Springs, P., my brother, and I went out to shoot birds with
our arrows. We went to a prairie-dog town. My brother, who was older than I,
was watching birds, and he ran into a snake. The snake bit him on the kneecap,
and he couldn't walk. He fell right there. P. ran to tell our family, and I stayed
with him.

As soon as he heard what had happened, my father went to get this woman.
They came and carried my brother to camp in a blanket. He sweated and
sweated.

Then the old woman came over. She said, "Well, I'll try it." First they had
to give her turquoise, and she told my brother to mark her. He marked her foot
with a cross of pollen and went around to her shoulders, chest, head, back, and
down the other side the way they do. Then she could begin.

She put pollen on the boy and put it to the directions. She put some in his
mouth and made a cross of it where he was bitten. Then she sang. She used no

drum She sang snake songs. The boy lay in front of her. She started in the

afternoon and sang until sundown. She sang like this during the day for four
days.

After she sang her songs she called on the biggest snake, the most poisonous
kind. She said to it, "I want you to take your poison back. Put it back in your
heart. I have sung your song and said your prayer and have done just what you
told me to do. Now I want you to do what I say and not bother this poor boy."
She didn't suck the wound. After calling on the snake she laughed. "The boy
will be all right," she said. "Snake hears me."

The swelling went down, and he got well. She told him, "You will never be
bitten by a snake again."

During the ceremony she said many things about snakes. She said that Snake
has legs, four of them, but that no one except those who know Snake can see
them. They are of turquoise, made like a ball, and he rolls along on them. That's
why Snake likes turquoise. When a man is sick from Snake, the first thing he
must do is give her turquoise. A woman must give her white stone. She said that
Snake likes turquoi,se and pollen. He likes to eat pollen. She said that she could
take pollen and put it there and sing, and a snake would come from the grass and
eat it.

I saw her perform many ceremonies. Sometimes she would sing and rub
saliva on the place where the person was bitten, and the swelling would go down
right away.

3'io AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

At the conclusion of most snake ceremonies, as in the case of
other rites, food and behavior restrictions are imposed:

You must not stir boiling meat with a knife or use the knife as a spoon. If you
should lie down flat on your back with your legs crossed, no one should step over
your legs. A rope must not be used on a person who has been bitten. In using a
rope you must not string it out toward your camp or house. You must always go
out the door of the home or tent, not out of the sides. In quarreling you must use
no words that have anything to do with the snake. You must not eat the mar-
row of leg bones. You must not eat meat from the breast of an animal.

Often the patient, after an attack of snake sickness, is given

a protective amulet:

After you go through a snake ceremony, the shaman may make a bandoleer
for you to wear, or give you a stone to wear, or make you an arm band, if you are
a man. For a woman he may have a beaded strip which she should wear in her
hair. These will make the patients immune so that the snake cannot harm them
again.

Fewer data exist concerning the place of other reptiles in the
ceremonialism. Of the gila monster it was remarked, "I hear it
mentioned in the ceremonial songs of old Chiricahua, but that's
the only way it's used now that I know of," and of the turtle:
"Some shamans use the shell for the giving of medicine. B. gave
me some in one. He marked the shell with pollen and gave it to
me four times. They say that the turtle shell cannot be hit by
lightning." The lizard appears in the myths as a helper of Child
of the Water and the small animals in their triumphs over the
monsters, and it is considered a potential source of supernatural
power.

Weapons. — The ordinary protection afforded by weapons is
enlarged, in certain cases, to include supernatural help as well,
and a set of songs and prayers known as "ceremony from the
gun" (the same word means gun or bow) has arisen. Sometimes
this ceremony is called "ceremony against the enemy."

Old Man S. was with Geronimo's bunch all through the war He has

power from the gun, they say. They say he used to get out on the bank; all the
soldiers shot at him and couldn't hit him. One who went to shoot him might fall
down or drop his gun; then S. would kill him instead. Another man told me he
knows a gun ceremony. He, too, went through all the wars safely. Geronimo is
said to have known this ceremony. He never got hurt either. Something always

PLATE XI

4

S

United States National Museum

Denver Art Museum

Ceremonial Hats for Protection in War

PLATE XII

United States National Museum

a) Moccasins

United States National Museum

b) Burden Basket

Claremont Colleges Museum, Thomas Miles, photographer

c) Water Jars

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 311

happens to your gun when you try to shoot at such a fellow. Your gun jams, for
instance. The one who knows this ceremony can fix it for someone else so that,
when he is shot at, he will be missed.

The shield is always ceremonial and belongs to this kind of power. When you
see a man with a shield, you know it was made for him by a ceremonial man in
connection with a war ceremony. It's not like a bow or a sling. It's not just a
weapon. Anyone couldn't have this. The shield is called "that which I hold up"
in a ceremonial way. It is the same with the lance. You could only get it from a
man who had the right to make it. It is not just a weapon.

I think I'm going to learn the gun ceremony from an old man now. I got him
when he was a little full and asked him if he knew anything he would show me.
He said, "Yes, I know Gun." He told me it would be easy for me to learn, that it
was mostly some prayers and songs. He showed me some of it right there. In
these songs and prayers the parts of the gun are given certain names. The
wooden stock is called the earth. The metal barrel is called the moon. The little
screws that hold it together are called whirlwind. This is true of all gun cere-
monies. I'm going to see him again and learn more about it.

The preparation of shields and designed garments to be given

to the client as protective amulets receives constant mention:

In connection with the gun ceremony there were circular buckskin head cover-
ings. These were carried but not worn often. Actually, a man wore a strip of
buckskin or cloth or a handkerchief around his head in war. Just the war shaman
and those to whom he gave them had the hats. Most of the time the hat was just
rolled up and tied to the quiver.

The shamans of the war ceremony made hats. These went with the shields;
they were made by the same men. These hats were of buckskin. Some were
round and decorated all around the rim. Some were colored black and white and
were designed with serrated figures, four-pointed stars, and lightning symbols.
Sometimes a jacket was given to the person to wear.

A protective ritual formula, allegedly first executed by Child
of the Water before his conflict with the giant, was described by
an informant who is reputed to know the gun ceremony:

Spit on the palm of the left hand. Dip the first finger of the right hand in the
saliva and make a cross with it on the left foot, thigh, forearm, and cheek. As the
crosses are made, call upon the four Thunders: Black Thunder, Blue Thunder,
Yellow Thunder, and White Thunder.

Then recite the following prayer, "Black flint is over your body four times.
Take your black weapon to the center of the sky. Let his weapons disappear
from the earth." This prayer, with only the colors changed, is repeated four
times. Then rub the first finger of the right hand horizontally across the lips four
times.

312 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Now the bow and arrows (or the gun) are held against the chest, pointing first
downward to the left, then upward to the right. At the same time face the east
and pray. The weapon is next worked over the right shoulder, across the back,
and down to the left hand.

Then the bow string is run through the mouth, and some of the "juice" of the
string is sucked off. This is spit into the palm of the left hand, and crosses are
made with the juice as before. Then the prayer is repeated.

Sacred places and summary. — Besides the homes of the Moun-
tain People, places with markings on the walls or on rocks may be
considered sacred. "I have heard the old men tell of one cave
which has the sun, moon, stars, and Mountain Spirits on the
walls They pray when they see this."

There are also wayside shrines and places of offering:

It is a pile of rock and stones about four feet high and eight feet wide. There
are four holes in the center. The foundation is east and west, and the holes are
running toward the east. You pick up a stone or leaves and hold this to the four
corners — east, south, west, and north — while you pray. Then you drop what you
have in the hole. It's asking a blessing. They take this to be a holy place.

We were on a trip by horse and we came to one of these. The older people told
us younger ones what to do. We were on horseback. We rode around the left
side of the shrine and dropped the stone in and then came right back. We could
have done it on foot too. I have heard ceremonial songs, a long time ago, men-
tion these shrines. The name means that rocks churn about in this place.

One informant ascribed the origin of sacred shrines to the mytho-
logical figure, Kantaneiro, who "told the Indians to do this for
long life and good luck."

These shrines are now used primarily as a place of contem-
plation and prayer by persons starting on a perilous trip:

There is a ceremonial place on that mountaintop. The people go there before
they leave on a long or dangerous journey. It is believed that, if you go to the
place and drop a stone on the pile already there or throw on a sprig of a juniper
tree, you will return safely.

In a society where shamanism is so broadly construed, to be
sure that every possible rite is represented in a collection, it
would be necessary to have the perfect confidence of everyone in
the community and to work with every adult. What has been
presented is admittedly only a sampling. Comments and stories
pertaining to ceremonies obtained through supernatural experi-

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 313

ences with Water Monster, Fire, Haze, Cyclone, Star, Moon,
Sun, Cloud, Badger, Bat, Beaver, Mountain Lion, Wildcat,
Bush Tit, Crow, Eagle, Hawk, Hummingbird, Yellow Warbler,
and insects have been excluded because of considerations of
space. But if the pattern, the range of power sources and cere-
monies, and enough of the individual behavior to leaven the
whole have emerged, the purpose has been achieved. It is inter-
esting that, despite theoretical catholicity, the kinds of cere-
monies obtained are, in practice, delimited by the concepts of
disease and by the most vexing problems of existence. Thus,
while power may be obtained from a wide variety of supernat-
ural, natural forces, animals, and the like, it is from a relatively
small number of these (such as the game animals and the dreaded
creatures which must be placated) that most rites actually come.

SKEPTICISM

Accounts of ceremonies usually come from the shaman him-
self, from his relatives and friends, or from a patient he has suc-
cessfully treated. Therefore, what is said will in most cases re-
flect the sentiments of the believer. But any member of the
tribe can be, on occasion, a sharp critic of supernatural claims.
This was so clear to one shaman that he told his audience : "Many
of you people don't believe in what I'm doing. You think I'm a
fake. I tell you to your faces that many of you will be willing to
be this man when you see how I restore him."

Criticism and skepticism are not likely to appear in stories of
the acquisition and use of power, but they are revealed in casual
conversations. For instance, when I asked an informant to
identify another man for me, he described him as a shaman who
had attempted to cure his wife of a swollen throat and had failed.

The attitude of respect for a basic pattern, tempered by doubt
in regard to any individual claim which seems extravagant or un-
founded, is illustrated in a "ghost" story:

One man was telling me that when he was coming home from hunting, be-
tween dark and dawn, he saw two big eyes looking at him. He got pretty fright-
ened. He didn't want to shoot at it because he didn't know what it was. So he
ran way around and approached it from the other side. When he got there he

314 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

saw it was a cow. He said that if he had been like many Indians he would have
run away and said it was a ghost. That's how most of this ghost business turns
out. Three-fourths of it is just something natural, if you stay around to find out.
Of course, there are some experiences with ghosts that are real.

Precedent for a sense of proportion in respect to the claims and
motives of would-be shamans is found in the traditions. A tale is
told of a woman who boasted of her ability to determine the
whereabouts of the enemy by means of her supernatural power.
One night, when the people feared a surprise attack, they asked
this woman to perform her rite for them. She went about the in-
side of the windbreak in which they were clustered, solemnly
moved her arms around, and assured them, "There is nothing.
It is good all over." But in giving them this encouraging mes-
sage, she leaned too far over the windbreak, and enemy soldiers
who had crawled to it pulled her over and made her captive. The
others, warned by her fate if not by her ceremony, fled under
cover of darkness.

Another story has to do with a visitor who is asked to use his
ceremony to find some missing tribesmen. He sings, shakes as
though influenced by some invisible force, and is led into the
brush. Returning, he asserts that a fully equipped horse must
be tethered at a distant point to the east if his power is to con-
tinue the search. This is done, and again the man sings and is
led into the darkness by his power, this time to the west. The
others wait a long time for him to come back. Finally a hard-
headed member of the group exclaims, "I'll bet he went over to
the horse!" This, indeed, is the case; the pretender has made off
with the finest horse in the encampment.

Religiosity is thus tempered with a saving humor and dis-
trust which act as brakes upon unreasonable claims. In a setting
where each person is allowed wide latitude in the acquisition of
power, the threat of public ridicule is a force in the maintenance
of the pattern. The individualistic principle itself becomes a
curb. Any person may claim extraordinary supernatural experi-
ences, but any other person may equally question the validity of
the assertion. Each shaman knows that there are those who be-
lieve in the efficacy of his rite and those who do not and that it is

FOLK BELIEFS AND MEDICAL PRACTICE 315

wise not to swell the number of the latter by radical departures
from established custom.

In keeping with the principle that ceremonialism should be
confined to recognized values, undignified religious excitement
is cause for humor rather than for praise.

This is sometimes called "religious excitement" or "religious ecstasy." It is
the same as what is called "crazy ceremony." This is when a person goes through

violent clapping of the hands involuntarily when in a religious ceremony

Some people get so excited in a ceremony that they shake all over or hit one hand
on the other. I knew such a woman when I was young. Some go "Ah, ah, ah,
ah!" — just gasp all the time. I knew one woman, part Chiricahua and part
white, who acted like this when the masked dancers performed. The Chiricahua
believe that you get this way when you take religion too seriously. Some Chirica-
hua think this is funny.

The motives of the shaman may be questioned:

A woman shaman got all this poor woman's possessions. She was treating her
for a long time. She kept asking for things. Finally she said that the sick woman
would have to come to her camp to be cured. C. said when he heard about it
that, if she went, she would never come back. And he was right.

Outright charges of fraud are not uncommon :

That man was never known as a shaman. He just picked up those songs from
anywhere and changed them. Now he uses them for ceremonial songs. I was out
at Whitetail with my wife. He was sleeping in the next room. His son-in-law was
out there. (This was when his daughter was still alive.) I heard him making
those songs up. He'd sing it in different ways. He'd sing, "My song makes every-
thing well." Now he uses it for a ceremonial song. After practicing he'd come in
where I was. I'd sing those words, and he'd just stare at me. He wanted to make
a church song;37 then he turned it into a ceremonial song. They say that he is
crazy now and that his songs don't mean anything. No one knows where he got
them or what right he has to them.

Even when the patient recovers, the shaman may receive but
grudging credit from his critics. Of one apparent cure, an in-
formant said, "It is hard to tell why he got well. Maybe the man
was ready to get well anyway, or maybe G. cured him."

37 Songs patterned after old Chiricahua types musically but expressing Chris-
tian sentiments have lately been composed for church use.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD

HUNTING

IN THE securing of sufficient food the preoccupation of the
man is properly with the hunt. "They think they are doing
enough by going around hunting all day and getting food
together." Except for participation in occasional rabbit sur-
rounds, women are not encouraged to show concern for matters
pertaining to the hunt. "Women never go out hunting because
they aren't strong and able to get around," it was explained; but
another comment suggests that the idea of appropriate male and
female spheres is quite as important a consideration.

The Chiricahua don't like to see a man go out hunting with a woman,
whether they're married or not. It's considered a disgrace. One man used to do
this. He was so jealous he didn't like to leave his wife alone. The Whitetail
people saw him going out hunting with his wife, and they criticized him and
laughed at him.

Since the deer is the most important game animal, a hunting
trip, unless it is otherwise stated, may be assumed to have as its
goal the securing of venison. Whether or not a specific ceremony
precedes the hunt, certain precautions are always observed:

There are two things you cannot do before you go hunting. One is to eat
onions. The other is to chew osha [Ligusticum porteri]. The deer will smell you if
you do. Suppose you are going hunting tomorrow morning. You can't eat them
tonight then. You can't even dig them the day before you are going out to hunt.
But the Chiricahua eat onions with deer meat when they come back from the
hunt. They use the onions raw while they are eating the meat or they boil the
onions with the meat.

When you are going hunting you take care not to clean yourself up. Perhaps
you have been eating the meat of some animal and therefore have been rubbing
the grease and marrow of the long bones on your face, legs, and arms. You keep
this on. And you don't put anything else on yourself that may smell; nothing
sweet-smelling like perfume [i.e., "Indian perfume," such as mint] can be used at
this time.

Fasting immediately before the hunt aids the chances for suc-
cess:

316

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 317

Another thing about the hunt according to the old Chiricahua ways: The
older men would always give this advice to the younger. "Don't eat before you
go out on the hunt," they would say. "Even though you have plenty in camp,
don't eat in the morning before you go out. Go out and hunt with an empty
stomach. Then Yusn will pity you. Perhaps you will not see anything to shoot
though it is late in the day. You'll be empty, hungry, an object of pity. But if
you go out with a full stomach, you'll hunt all day and won't get anything. As
soon as you make your kill and come back with it, you can eat all you want."

The crow is associated with the hunt. A tale relates how ani-
mals were kept hidden by the crows until Killer of Enemies, with
the help of Coyote, freed them during the absence of their keep-
ers. The crows returned just in time to see their animals escape,
and in their anger called the names of the waste products which
form their usual fare. "So the human beings get all the best part
of the meat, and the crows get what is left." On the basis of this
story, the appearance of a crow just before the hunt is accepted
as a favorable omen:

Well, suppose I am planning to go out hunting tomorrow. Crow might be
very happy, flying around my camp. Then I might say, "Well, Crow, I'm going
out hunting tomorrow and if I kill a deer you'll get the entrails, so help me." The
crow must be connected in some way with hunting, but I've never heard how.
But that's the way of it.

The attitude of the hunter should be one of reverence and gen-
erosity:

If I am going hunting with you, before we start out you might tell me, "If I
kill two deer for you, I'm going to kill a good fat one and it will be mine." You
must not show your selfishness in any way. If you say anything like this and
walk all day and get no deer, you know what is the cause of it. You brought it on
yourself. And even if you have killed several deer and you say something like
this, you'll have bad luck later on. It'll make it bad for you.

The attitude against optimism is emphasized particularly
in one of the rules of the hunt.1 "The Chiricahua don't allow
baskets around the hunt. To bring them means that you are
overconfident that they are going to be filled up. It spoils your
luck."

In late fall, when the deer are fatter and the hides better,

1 One elderly informant, an Eastern Chiricahua, claimed to know nothing of
this rule.

3i8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

hunting activities are intensified, but this industry continues
through the year whenever need commands and weather per-
mits. "The Chiricahua killed any kind of deer — bucks or does,
blacktail or whitetail, any time of year." Ordinarily, the hunter
leaves for the chase alone or with one or two companions. Some-
times as many as ten men will travel together to a site where the
game is known to be abundant, but then each goes his own way.
The individual character of the hunt is evident from the follow-
ing description:

In the evening, before going to bed, I think about where I am going to hunt.
So in the morning I wake up at dawn and rise eager to be off. I may prepare my-
self something to eat, yucca fruit or mescal or perhaps some meat, fresh or dried,
and eat it. I don't eat much, for my mind is on hunting; if I don't eat before

going, it doesn't matter, for, when I make my, kill, I eat I leave alone

invariably. Some of the men prefer to hunt in pairs, especially if they go on
horseback, but I wait for nobody and go early, alone, because the deer are not
wise in the morning.

If I have the luck to kill a deer close to camp, I carry it back home and
butcher it and skin it myself at home. The neighbors come around, and I give
them parts of the meat. If I kill a deer far away, I butcher the animal out there,
skin it, wrap the meat tightly in the skin to keep the crows from getting at it, and
hang it on a tree so that the animals can't get it. Then I go home and return
with my horse and fetch the meat. I return to camp then with the meat, and
everybody is proud of me, and all are happy. I give meat to all who come around;
among these are women without husbands, who are very eager for meat.

If I am unsuccessful on the hunt, I keep going as late as possible, until dark,
and manage to get home by dark. If several men hunt together, they might plan
to stay out all night; but, if hunters don't plan it, they always get home by dark
so that nobody worries. After coming home in the evening when I have been
unsuccessful, there may be nothing to eat, but I have to stick it out. That's
pretty hard, but I'm man enough to stand it until morning. Though I am unsuc-
cessful, no one makes fun of me.

Sometimes there was no food, and we suffered much; in the old days the In-
dians could stand hunger, and they would tie a cord around their waists pretty
tight.2 If I have no luck hunting, I would go off to hunt like this every day until I
kill something; but, if I have good luck, I can lay off for two or three days. I
enjoy hunting, but when I have meat I may or may not feel like going hunting.

Most of the deer secured are killed with the bow and arrow.
(This refers to the time before the introduction of firearms, of

2 It is believed that this reduces the discomfort of hunger.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 319

course.) Sometimes, especially when the hunter is mounted, the
deer are run to exhaustion, roped, and strangled. An unblem-
ished skin can be secured in this way, or the hunter might stab
the tired animal in the throat or in some spot where an incision
would be made anyway in skinning.

Arrows used on the hunt are occasionally treated with poison
which has strong magical properties:

Get some animal blood. Then take the sharp prongs of plants like the prickly-
pear cactus and pound them up with the blood. Allow this to spoil. Put it on the
arrow point. Whatever you shoot with it dies. It does not spoil the meat though.
It acts the same on humans. It acts like this because the plants used have
prickers.

A favorite aid in stalking is a deer-head mask, a device con-
tributed by Killer of Enemies:

We stalk deer wearing the head and horns of a deer. The head is mounted on
a circular stick which rests on the top of the hunter's head. The features of the
deer are filled in with grass, and the skin is tied together at the sides so the mask
will stay on. The hunter sneaks up on the deer from the proper side, so the wind
will not warn them of him. He acts like a grazing deer. He stoops over and rests
on a stick which he holds in the left hand. In the right hand he holds his arrows.
In this v/ay he walks slowly to the deer until he is near enough to shoot an arrow.
He doesn't wear the body skin of the deer as a disguise, but he puts on something
that is pretty near the color of the deer's body. Some careful men could come
within six feet of the deer in this way.

Sometimes, to draw the deer to him, the hunter employs a
further stratagem: "They have whistles made of a leaf to call
the deer. They can do it with any leaf held horizontally along
the lips. It sounds like a small deer, and the mother comes."

Whenever possible the hunter tries to hit his prey in the flank,
for then "the running motion makes the arrow work farther up."
In the myths this technique is used by Killer of Enemies and
Coyote.

Though it is common "for each man to hunt for himself" or for
two or three to join forces, occasionally a larger number start
out together. This permits a relay method of hunting; men are
stationed at various points along a course, and deer are started in
this direction. Fresh hunters are able to enter the chase at inter-
vals and finally run down the tiring game. By much the same

320 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

method, deer can be directed toward a "cliffor steep place so that
they will have to stop or go down. Someone is stationed below
to shoot them if they go down." There is no enthusiasm for run-
ning game, however, for it is said to make the meat "darker" and
"slimy" and like the flesh of an old animal.

If a hunter is alone and kills a deer, he skins and butchers it
immediately,3 a task which must be done according to prescribed
rules:

The Chiricahua have their way for hunting. They follow rules according to
the way Child of the Water hunted when he was on earth. He always put the
head of his kill to the east. And he never walked in front of it to the east; he
never walked past the head when he was skinning or butchering. He never strad-
dled the deer or walked across the carcass as the whites do when butchering a
cow.

First skin the side that is up. Begin at the face, cutting down the middle.
Continue down the neck and along the center of the body and along the inside of
the forefeet and back legs. Always cut through the middle of the joint so there
won't be any baggy place when the hide is tanned. Pull the skin off the legs and
keep cutting and working it off the rest of the carcass. When the skin is off the
top side, cut the flesh along the side, break the ribs, and remove the entrails so as
not to spoil the meat. Then turn the carcass over and skin the other side. Cut
the sinews so that the lower leg joints are not stiff. They look too much the way
a dead person does if they are stiff.

When the skin is entirely freed, a further ritual action takes
place; this is sometimes simple, sometimes rather elaborate:
When I skin a deer, I brush the body with the skin in the four directions.

After the hide is off and the carcass is lying there, we twice lay the hide on
reversed, with the front end of the hide on the back part of the carcass. Then we
talk to the deer and say, "When you see me don't be afraid. May I be lucky with
you all the time." This is done twice. In that way you have good luck with the
deer and see them all the time.

To complete the butchering, the legs are cut off, the back-
bone is severed at the neck and below the ribs, and the remainder

3 One informant said: "The wolf call is used in hunting as a signal if you want
help after you have made the kill." But another informant thought it would be
used only in special cases: "I do not think that calling like a wolf at a kill is gen-
eral for the Chiricahua. I have been with old men when they killed deer, and
they did not do it. A man who knows the ceremony of the wolf might."

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 321

is cut into convenient sections. One man tells of his care to keep
the meat of the right side separate from that of the left side until
the butchering is concluded, but this seems to be personal with
him.

If a hunter is on foot and far from his camp, it is likely that he
will be able to take only part of the kill back with him:

If you are on foot and can't take it with you, you put the meat in a heap,
place the hide over it, and say to the animals, "This belongs to Yusn; leave it
alone." Then you hang it up in a tree by means of strongly spliced yucca strings.
You hang it high enough so that animals cannot reach it. Then you put what you
are going to take home in the hide. After reaching home, you go right back after
the rest and bring it in.

Another man mentioned a similar procedure, though he invokes
a different supernatural:

You put part of the kill in a tree if you can't carry it all at once. It is tied
there with strings made from the yucca leaf. There is a little prayer that is used
at this time. You say, "This belongs to Hedos."4 He was the "first man," sort of
a religious man. He did this every time he made a kill. Now the Chiricahua do it.

Crow is remembered with an offering. "Then I take the en-
trails out, put them to one side, and say, 'This is for you, Crow;
make me lucky, and we'll have this kind of food all the time. I
leave this for you every time.' "

Certain parts of the deer must have special care if good for-
tune in the hunt is to be maintained:

As a general rule you must take the head home. Somebody might give you
bad luck with it if you leave it there. You can do anything you want with it
when you get it home, hang it up or anything. You must take the hoofs too.
You can do what you want with them when you get them home too. Everybody
is directed to do this.

A particular act also attends the bringing-back of the horns
of a buck. "They take a slit of the entrails of a buck and tie it on
the right horn. I was with M. hunting. He killed a deer and did
this. I asked him why, and he said, 'For luck.' "

4 This is the same supernatural character whose name was given before as
Herus (see p. 198). The name is very unstable and has been recorded as Hados
and Eyos as well.

322 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The rules of the hunt require generosity:

The first man who comes up to you when you kill a deer is entitled to the
whole deer, no matter who he is. You say to him, "Go ahead, help yourself.
Leave what you want for me." He can leave half or take most and leave you a
little. You can't say anything. He can take the skin and all. The Chiricahua
always feels this way. A poor fellow is out here hunting because he needs meat.
If I kill something and he comes over, I share with him. That's the feeling of all
the hunters. If you have already butchered a deer and have it on your horse
carrying it into camp and meet someone, it is different. Then you give him what-
ever you want to. It's up to you.

An etiquette of reasonableness and shrewd utility governs these
privileges, however. In no case of which I have a record has
more than the hide and half the meat been taken. Often the hide
alone or the meat only is accepted. A man who is well supplied
with meat and skins may even politely decline the gift, for he
knows that acceptance constitutes an implicit claim against him
when the situation is reversed.

When two men are hunting together, "it's up to the man who
makes the kill to give the hide to the other if he wants to." So
automatic is this response that a man who kills a deer while he
is in the company of another hunter is said "to kill it for" his
friend. "When you are out and you kill a deer for another, he
skins it."

The ideal of selflessness in obedience to rule is sometimes diffi-
cult to maintain, particularly when hunting companions have a
common need of buckskin:

I've heard jokes about hunting. This is one funny story. Two men were
hunting together. Both were good shots. They saw a deer close by, a big deer.
Neither of them could have missed it, it was so close. Each man knew that he
wasn't entitled to the hide if he killed the deer. Each said to the other, "You
shoot him." Each was making up all kinds of excuses for not shooting. One said
to the other, "I've shot many deer for you, so you could get the hides. Now
here's a chance for you to kill one for me, and you don't do it!" The other said,
"You can kill that deer, and then I'll get the hide." Meanwhile the deer ran
away, and neither of them got it. That's the story I've heard. They laugh when
they tell this story.

The strength of the obligation of generosity can be inferred
from this account, in which a man, despite his selfishness, is
offered a share by the successful hunter:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 323

C. told me what happened another time. He said, "I saw a big buck in the
bushes. I shot him, and the deer just dropped down. So I went over there and
put my knife in its throat so it would bleed. Then I had to get my horse that I
had left a long ways behind. This happened in a canyon, and, when I shot, A. was
over there and heard it.

"While I went back after my horse, A. got to my deer. He dragged it about
fifty yards away into some other bushes. I got back to the place where I had left
the deer, but I couldn't find it. I followed the track, but every now and then he
had lifted up the deer, trying to make me lose the trail. All the time I was trailing
I thought no human would do a thing like that. I thought it must be a bear. So I
got off my horse and loaded my gun and followed it in the brush, down the hill.

"Pretty soon I saw something black. It was moving in the bushes and I
couldn't tell what it was. I was just a little way from it, maybe twenty yards. I
saw the black hair; I thought it was a bear. So there I was. I wanted to see
where his head was, for I wanted to shoot him in the ribs. I followed him with
my rifle, ready to shoot.

"Then A. stood up and said, 'Phew!' I had almost shot that fellow! I walked
up to him. I asked him, 'Why is it you took my deer? Why is it you didn't
butcher it up there where it was but carried it down here? I almost shot you. I
almost took you for a bear.'

"Then A. told me, 'There's your deer; take it then!' I said, 'Go ahead; take
what you want. I'll take the rest of it.' "

Then A. took the hide and C. got what was left. C. said, "I was pretty good
about it and let him have what he wanted."

When three men are hunting together, and one shoots a deer,
his companions run for the fallen animal, and the first to touch
it has the privilege of skinning it and keeping the hide. To the
others usually go portions of the meat.

It is customary to help the widows and the aged. If there are
many such individuals and meat is scarce, the hunter may have
little meat left upon his arrival at his own home:

If you go through the camps with a deer, they take it from you. You can't
say anything. It's hard to refuse those who haven't any meat. That's the Chiri-
cahua way. They take the hide and the meat; they take what they want. I used
to sneak in at night. That's what some do.

Another informant feels that the distribution of food is governed
by a more spontaneous generosity. "When a man returns from
the hunt, the proceeds are his own. He doesn't have to give any-
thing, but even if a lazy man wants food, he would not refuse
him."

324 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The proper care of the meat and the skeletal parts of the deer
must be kept in mind until the animal is entirely consumed. It
is forbidden to "take the meat when it is hot and blow upon it,"
for such action is likely "to blow the deer away." "We don't
just throw the bones away. We are careful. We put them in a
nice pile. They say if you throw the bones, it throws the deer
away. You won't see any more deer when you are out hunting."
Other safeguards are employed for individual ends:

Other things, like handling the meat a certain way, or not giving away certain
parts, are done mostly at the direction of ceremonial men. If your luck has been
bad and you've hunted all week without killing a thing, you might go to some
man who has songs for this and ask him to help you. He will give you some
restriction or rule on your hunting. That's how these things start.

The game animal next in importance to the deer is the prong-
horn or antelope. Separate hunts to obtain antelopes are less
frequent, however; often such hunts wait upon a chance encoun-
ter which reveals the presence of the antelopes. In general, the
same usages, ceremonial and practical, which mark the deer hunt
are true for the antelope hunt. The solitary hunter makes con-
siderable use of the antelope-head mask. "They fix the antelope
head for hunting. They take all the bone out, leaving only horns
and ears. Only a man with ceremonial knowledge will do it, they
say. They call hunting with a mask of this kind 'he slips up to
it.

Stalking antelopes is even more time-consuming and difficult
than approaching deer:

The antelopes live on the flats. They are harder to get near than deer. They
are hunted like deer, with a mask. The hunter wears a jacket painted like an
antelope skin. He has a stick in one hand. He imitates the walk of the antelope.
If a herd of antelopes is seen in the distance, the hunter works up to them. It
takes two or three hours sometimes, for it is necessary to advance slowly, acting
just like the animals. The grass is tall, and the hunter keeps his head just above
the grass.

The relay chase is used to secure pronghorns, too:

A group of about ten men sometimes goes off on horseback to hunt antelopes.
When the antelopes are sighted, one bunch scatters the antelopes toward the
other men who are strung along on horseback. When one horse gets tired, an-

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 325

other man takes up the chase. Sometimes they rope the antelopes. Then they
kill them by slitting them under the leg or throat where you have to cut anyway
when skinning.

Then there is a surround in which mounted men participate:

When the herd is sighted, they scatter and approach it, making a big circle.
Two or three men run in toward the antelopes and get them started. Then the
circle closes in, and the hunters shoot or rope the animals. The men are about a
hundred yards apart. Special horses, two-year-olds which are trained for hunt-
ing, are used.

Another animal which is occasionally hunted, but not as seri-
ously as deer or antelopes, is the wapiti, or "American elk."
These are few in number throughout some parts of the tribal ter-
ritory (the Southern Chiricahua claim that there were none in
most of their range), and the meat, perhaps because the people
are less familiar with it, is not so greatly esteemed. The Central
Chiricahua say that "there were plenty of elks" where they lived,
however. Elk horns are too heavy to attach to masks, and in-
formants say it is not necessary to use the heads anyway, for the
elk "is not as smart as the deer and is easier to get."

The meat and the skins of the mountain sheep and the moun-
tain goat are used when they can be procured. These animals are
not numerous or easy to get, however, and are of limited impor-
tance in the economy.

Wood rats supplement the meat diet:

The Chiricahua hunt those big rats and eat them. Two men go to a nest. One
pokes a stick in; the other waits at the other end and shoots when the rat comes
out. For this they use a small arrow the same as is used for birds. It is all wood,
with a sharpened point. When they get a good many rats, they pierce the legs
and carry them home on poles over the shoulder. Sometimes to get them a per-
son pokes into a hole and hits them with a stick when they come out.

Opposums, considered "the best meat in the rat class," are found
in Southern Chiricahua range and are shot with bows and arrows.
Cottontail rabbits are hunted and eaten, but for some reason
many persons are reluctant to eat jack rabbits:

Many won't eat jack rabbit, though they will eat cottontail. I don't know
why exactly. They say cottontail meat is better. It's between the taste and the
looks.

326 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The jack rabbit is supposed to have a bad taste. I never have eaten it, but I
have eaten cottontails. In Oklahoma the other Indians ate jack rabbits, but
most of the Chiricahua didn't. We eat the cottontail though. I like it. It has
saved me many times, that rabbit! Cottontails are good.

The dislike for jack rabbit is not unanimous, apparently, for a
member of the Eastern band asserted, "The Hot Springs people
eat cottontails and jack rabbits."

Rabbits are hunted assiduously by boys who are still too
young to seek larger game. Grown men shoot them when other
game fails and fresh food is required at once. Sometimes a com-
munal rabbit hunt or "rabbit clubbing" is arranged.5 Rabbits
and other small furry creatures are sometimes dislodged from
burrows by means of long sticks. "They use a stick to get small
animals out of holes. You catch the end of it in the animal's fur
and twist. Then pull out. Any kind of wood or stick will do for
this. Rabbits mostly are pulled out this way. Sometimes they
get away."

Only a few are fond of prairie-dog meat :

The prairie dog is sometimes eaten. Some do it for health, but others don't
like it; they are afraid of it, as they are offish. They don't like the looks of it, I
guess. As I understand it, very few eat it. No one warned me against eating it,
but I just haven't done so. My father has mentioned eating it, but very few of
the older people do. They say that prairie dogs eat snakes, just as hogs do.
They don't say you can get sick from the prairie dog as you can from the snake,
but the Chiricahua just don't like it much.

Squirrels sometimes serve to replenish the larder. They are
seldom hunted by grown men, but the boys hunt them and thus
demonstrate their ability to add to the household's resources.

Although peccaries are found in some parts of the tribal range,
the members of at least two of the bands — the Eastern and Cen-
tral— will not eat this meat because "the peccary eats snakes."
A Southern Chiricahua band member, however, tells of hunts in
which the wild hogs are rounded up like rabbits and shot down
with arrows. The hunters surround a brushy place, for "the
peccaries are found where there is a lot of brush; when on the
flats they always make for the brush." The same informant said,

5 For a description of this see p. 76.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 327

"The unborn of the peccary is eaten also. One pig has lots of
them."

That the wildcat was formerly eaten is both affirmed and de-
nied. One informant classed it with wolf and fox and said, "We
don't like the meat; also it is forbidden and might kill us." It
is possible that some individuals used it for food. Everyone
wants the skin, and so the animal is killed whenever opportunity
offers.

A number of informants have agreed that mountain-lion meat
is edible. In addition, the hide is the favorite material for the
quiver. Consequently, no opportunity to shoot a cougar is over-
looked by the hunters.

Infrequently the chance was afforded to hunt bison. One ac-
count tells of a long trip to a point north and east of the present
site of Albuquerque and of success in hunting bison there. Occa-
sionally one was found in the vicinity of Hot Springs and was se-
cured by the people of that region. But bison were entirely ab-
sent from the greater part of the territory.

In the historic period wild cattle became abundant and were
supplemented by domestic stock obtained on raids to the south.
The stock introduced by the Europeans became important very
early:

Long ago there were cattle which we hunted and used. The old people say
that there were some wild cattle and wild horses, wilder than deer. I don't know
where they came from. Many ate burros and mules in those days; many ate
horses.

Before the Americans came, a few Chiricahua had cattle, and, of course, there
were some with many horses. In wars with the Mexicans they would sometimes
steal cattle, and that accounts for the presence of cattle among the Chiricahua.
They'd herd the cattle to a river and let them stay around there and increase.
Five or six or a dozen men who made the raid would divide the cattle among
them, and then the cattle belonged to them personally. Then these men might
have enough meat so they wouldn't have to hunt any more for a while.

Many animals are hunted only for their fur. Among these are
the badger (from which a skin bag for holding piiion seeds and
acorns is made), the beaver, and the otter.

Birds are much more significant as a source of feathers than
as food:

328 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

We don't like the turkey for food because it eats insects. We think it is nasty.
When I was at Fort Apache my relatives used to tell me, "Don't go around white
soldiers, don't go around Chinamen. They'll feed you hog meat and turkey
meat, and these eat nasty things, anything at all." I never heard that turkeys
eat snakes, but they eat worms and nasty things. The Chiricahua hardly even
eat quails. When they get hungry, some just have to eat birds like the dove.
They may eat these when they have to, but they don't like to do it.

That all are not of one mind concerning the inadvisability of us-
ing the turkey for food is suggested by other statements, how-
ever. Said a member of the Eastern band: "The Hot Springs
people eat turkey all right. Some other Indians say it lives on
bugs and won't eat it, though."

Evidently the effort made to get turkeys varies too. Accord-
ing to one informant: "They are shot with arrows when they are
seen, but they are not hunted; there is no special trip to get
them." From others, though, come accounts of organized at-
tempts to flush them: "A group of men goes along a creek to
scare turkeys. Another group will be about one-half mile away
on the other side where they think the turkeys will fly when
frightened. They wait there and when the turkeys appear, shoot
them with arrows and club them."

Most informants agree that the dove is edible. One man, be-
fore singing the "dove song" of the moccasin game,6 told a story
that seems to support this:

The dove used to talk. It was making a nest. Then it said it was going to
paint its legs red. "Here in this nest that I build, my little ones will increase. I
will go out and look for something to eat for my young ones. Anyone who kills
me will be obliged to eat me." It painted its legs red so as to be easily recog-
nized. Since then these birds have been used for food.

Small birds, such as snowbirds and sparrows, are the targets of
boys who are perfecting their skill with arrow and sling. Often
the boys build a fire and roast and eat their kill at or near their
base of operations. Rarely, except in times of dire want, do
adults set out on bird hunts. Occasionally, mounted men chase
quails to exhaustion and thus secure them in quantity. Some
shoot ducks and geese for food, but not everyone will do so, for

6 See p. 453.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 329

the same division of opinion concerning their suitability exists as
in the case of the turkey. One person, for instance, insisted,
"The Chiricahua never eat duck. They just don't like it. I
never hear them say why." Yet another man just as positively
stated, "The Chiricahua eat ducks, quails, geese, doves, turkeys,
and prairie chickens."

Birds are desired for their feathers, and oval or peaked
blinds are constructed to catch them: "The bird blind is shaped
something like a tepee — the poles slant up together. You put
sticks on the top of it so the birds come and sit on it. You can
shoot them easily this way."

Eagle feathers are in great demand, and the hunter is always
on the lookout for an eagle which has so gorged itself that it is
almost helpless: "Sometimes a man is lucky and comes upon an
eagle when it has eaten so much that it can't get off the ground
quickly. Then the man runs at it and hits it with a club. The
eagle is that way — it will eat so much that it can't fly."

Eagles are also deliberately trapped:

Anyone can kill an eagle and use the feathers for arrows. When they find a
dead animal, they put snares around the carcass to capture the eagle. They make
an Indian trap. They use sinew, making loops with it which draw up tightly
[slipknots] when the eagle steps in one and moves. The carcass or the meat that
is used is tied down to a big rock so that the eagle cannot get it easily but must
walk about a lot. These knots are all around, covered with grass. They are
attached to sticks or brush. When the eagle is caught it is killed with a club, hit
on the head. The eagle is not left alive intentionally, but if you hit it and think it
is dead and then after it is plucked it gets up again, you leave it alone. Anyone
may put out one of these traps.

One informant, a member of the Southern Chiricahua band,
claims that eaglets are sometimes taken from a nest in the ab-
sence of the parent-birds, and he describes a cage in which they
are reared until the feathers are ready for plucking: "They were
caught on a mountain slope close to the present Arizona line.
They were caught when they were small and were raised. We
never caught grown-up ones. People climbed trees to get them."

The eaglets, according to this testimony, are kept in a large
cage, approximately ten feet high and thirty inches wide, made of
branches tied together with rawhide strips. This cage is secured

330 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

to four stout poles which are sunk into the ground. Inside, near
the top, are perches on which the eaglets may rest.

An Eastern Chiricahua band leader had three eagles in one house. Then an-
other was built. There were two in there. The little eagles used to go out and
come back. They ate lungs. They fought like dogs. When they had had enough
to eat, they went to the top. Eagles that are raised are never killed. After they
have pulled the feathers off, they let them go.

One other informant recalled having seen eagles in captivity
but sharply reduced the size of the cage employed from that pic-
tured in the preceding account. The practice of capturing eaglets
alive and raising them must be quite rare, however, for a number
of other elderly commentators denied knowledge of it. One man
explicitly stated: "We didn't keep eagles in a cage. Many were
afraid of them and wouldn't touch them. We couldn't raise
them. We were moving all the time, staying three days or so in
one place. That's why we stored our goods in cave caches."

It is possible that some individuals of the Southern Chiricahua
band or members of some of its local groups make an attempt to
secure fish and eat them:

My people eat fish. There was a certain river in Mexico where my people
came. There they would lift rocks in the water and shoot the fish they found
there with arrows. When they were traveling they just put the fish on the coals
and broiled them. They also used to boil them in water. They ate fish eggs, but
they ate no shell fish at all.

Another informant, an Eastern Chiricahua who lived close to
the Rio Grande, explained that those with whom he lived fished
whenever they could and ate any kind of fish.

It may be, therefore, that the dislike of fish reported by many
informants is to be correlated with unfamiliarity with this kind
of food and the distance from any possible supply. The intensity
of the repugnance and the willingness of many to equate the fish
with the snake, suggest something stronger than mere unfamili-
arity, however. It is more likely that the Southwestern taboo on
fish was beginning to influence the Chiricahua markedly and
that the alleged similarity between the fish and the snake afford-
ed a convenient rationalization.

In an attempt to explain why his people made so little use of
fish a Chiricahua acquaintance said:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 331

It is true that the old Chiricahua wouldn't eat fish. They say of fish, "They
are slippery and slick just like snakes, and they are relatives to the snakes. They
are relatives to the lizards and all the nasty ones." It looks just that way to
them. And toads and frogs and tadpoles are classed with snakes. The Chiricahua
wouldn't eat them. They never ate fish until they got to Fort Sill. Even now I
don't like such things. I get a headache from them. I'm not used to such food,
and it doesn't agree with my stomach.

I was up at the Ruidoso River for two years as a guard. I had to look at the
passes, and those who didn't have the right ones I chased out. Those campers
would bring fish to us every day. The fish were cleaned and fried. I would say to
my wife, "Let's try it." We'd try a little, and then we'd have to throw it away.
There were those poor fellows running themselves ragged every day trying to
catch those fish, and here we were throwing them away just as soon as the people
left! Even canned fish doesn't agree with me. My wife can't eat it either. There
was no mention of sickness from fish though. I never heard any ceremonial songs
about that. Many Indians eat fish now; they go around and fish.

A similar frame of mind is revealed in another account:
People did not fish when I was a boy. Fish was not eaten; it was not an
Indian food in the old days. We classed fish with the snake and thought it could
bite. We thought it could cause evil influence. There was no ceremony con-
nected with it though. It is only since contact with the whites that fish is eaten.
Formerly we had no separate names for different kinds of fish.

A younger man reaffirmed this last statement and added, "We
younger people distinguish different kinds of fish. We call cat-
fish 'fish with whiskers' and perch and bass 'fish without bones,'
for instance." This young man went on to say:

It is perhaps true that P.'s group might have eaten fish. They were nearer
water. At Fort Sill (1894-19 13) about one-third didn't eat fish still — this many
at least. The old folks didn't care if the young people ate fish. I ate it. I could
eat it right next to old men who didn't eat it, and they wouldn't scold. A father
would not object if his son ate it, but he would object if his son ate bear meat.

It is undoubtedly true that, since fish is not so definitely an
animal of "evil influence" as the bear or the coyote, its use as
food is more likely to be left to individual taste. Nevertheless,
if the incident that follows is taken as a guide, the young man
probably underestimates the animus of many of the older people
toward fish:

The old people won't eat fish or pork. Some won't eat pork yet, and few will
eat fish. If my mother eats a little pork, it makes her sick right away. She won't
have fish around at all.

332 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Once my brother brought a can of sardines to camp. He was going to open it
for lunch. My mother didn't know what he had and she brought out a plate for
him to put them on. She asked him what it was. He didn't want to tell her. He
held the can behind him. Then he brought it out and opened it up and spilled the
fish on the plate my mother was holding. She looked at it. She didn't know what
it was. It looked funny to her. She asked my brother, and he told her.

You know how those old people are. She gave a yell and threw it. It landed
right in the lap of the old man. The old man just sat there and looked at it. The
plate was lying there in the dirt. I nearly died laughing. My brother was angry.
He said, "What did you throw them away for?" She said, "If you bring me
something bad like that again, I'll throw it right in your face."

"The frog is not eaten; it is classed with fish." "The frog is
classed as a snake. We do not eat it. If you do, it will make you
walk like a cowboy [i.e., will make you bowlegged]." An in-
formant who apparently equates frogs with snakes said: "I
killed frogs and sold them to the [American] soldiers, but I never
ate them myself. There were eels in the creek near Fort Sill. B.
used to catch them. The soldiers bought them, but the Indians
wouldn't eat them."

One voice was raised in appreciation of frogs' legs as food.
The Eastern Chiricahua informant, previously quoted, who
claims that his people ate fish, added: "They ate frogs' legs too.
The meat tastes like chicken and is good."

THE ECONOMIC INTEREST IN RAID AND WAR

For men, raiding approaches hunting in economic significance.
In fact, these two pursuits may be said to be rival industries:

The man who has a deer ceremony either does not go on raids or does not
spend too much time on raids, so he will not lose his luck with deer. If you are
too successful on raiding parties and bring back lots of booty, you become un-
lucky with deer; you don't see the deer and become a poor hunter.

This statement embodies a psychological and practical truism:
The man who becomes engrossed in raid and war very likely has
only limited time and interest to devote to the chase.

The raid is a recognized and integral aspect of the economy.
This finds expression in the songs. The words of a round-dance
song, for instance, repeat: "The wagon goes along, they say,

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 333

they say." This has been interpreted to mean : "The Chiricahua
are out by themselves. They see a wagon. They are glad be-
cause they know their warriors will bring in the spoils."

Glory and enhanced status may be the by-products of the
raid, but the immediate aims of those who organize such expedi-
tions and participate in them are direct and practical:

One party after the other went out. They went on raids because they were in
need. They divided their booty among the poor in camp. Sometimes they traded
it to the well-to-do. Sometimes the horses were traded for a woman [in marriage];
they were given to the girl's parents.

When the people are poor and need supplies, the leader says, "We must go out
and get what we need." It is volunteer work. Whoever is in want of food and
necessities goes. The leader heads the party, which is made up of men only.
Women never go on raids.

E.'s father was a great leader. He helped the people many times when they
needed things. One time he prophesied that they were going to take a lot of
booty near a certain hill. He told the people that a provision train with food and
goods of all kinds would pass there. They went there, and the wagons passed by,
and they got the goods.

In the speech of a leader, who is about to direct an expedition,
the raid is also pictured as a stern economic necessity:

You love your homes and children. But we are going to leave them. Forget

them. We do not know what is going to happen. Prepare your weapons

Do not be afraid. We want to accomplish something for our camp; for our people
are in need

Since raid and war are viewed as industrial pursuits, unwilling-
ness to participate in them is attributed to indolence rather than
cowardice :

If a man wouldn't go to war, it was because he was generally lazy, just too
lazy to get around, and his mind watery. Another person might have to push
him around to get him to do anything. People who don't go to war are just lazy
people; that's all. There may have been some industrious men who did not go to
war because they were cowardly — but, of course, these men would never tell why
they would not go to war if this was the reason. I suspect there were some who
were afraid to die. You couldn't tell for sure. It was usually blamed on laziness.

There is no absolute terminological distinction between the
raid and a war expedition. Both are aspects of behavior which
is described by a single term meaning "they are scouting about"

334 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

or "they are raiding here and there." The unifying element again
appears to be the interest in the spoils. "There is no difference
between the raid and war; they are going to bring back whatever
they can either way."

But there is a difference of primary intent which does distin-
guish the raid from the war expedition. The members of the
raiding party have as their sole objective the garnering of horses,
cattle, or unguarded possessions of the enemy. They do not go
in numbers; they do not seek a bloody encounter. Descriptions
of typical raiding parties emphasize the business-like procedure
and the pacific attitude:

As few as five or six would be in the party. About ten is the most that would
go. Usually, but not always, one who had power connected with war was along.
It was just according to how it happened. Each man took a robe or two along.
Each took along a little food in a bag tied to his belt. Often no food was taken
along, and the man killed something to eat on the way. Water was brought in a
little bag made of entrails, which was carried in the hand. One of the party
would bring along a fire drill which was carried in the quiver. The cattle were
freely roaming. They drove them off. If they were discovered by the owners of
the cattle, they would usually run away without fighting.

When they are on a stock raid, they don't want to be seen. They sneak
around. They are careful; they avoid meeting troops or taking life. It is different
from a revenge party.

A raid is organized by some leader. He decides. In the morning and in the
evening he gets on a horse, or stands, and speaks to the people. He calls for all
men who wish to go. The war dance is not put on just for a raid for booty. When
they go out looking for a fight, they dance the war dance. The booty of the raid
is divided as soon as it is obtained. If three men drive offjust a little stock, they
would keep it all perhaps, though they could give some to others if they wished.
If there are many men on a raid and a great deal is driven off, it is evenly divided
among the men. The leader of the expedition sometimes gets even less than the
other people from the proceeds of the raid. He is supposed to be generous like
that.

But, very often, raiders who do not contemplate an actual con-
flict, find themselves involved in one before they reach home:

If we were raiding against Mexicans, a party would go down near the enemy's
village and stay a short distance away while a few of the men went down and
stole horses and cattle. Then, with these possessions, the party would start back.
If the soldiers overtook us, there would be a battle.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 335

It is when a raiding party is intercepted, or when disastrous
retaliation on the camps follows a raid, that a real war party is
formed :

Sometimes when the Chiricahua are on the raid, the enemy kills some of their
principal men. The people whose relatives have been killed notify the leaders,
warriors, and everybody — the entire encampment. Even though they are in sor-
row they notify these friends to have a war dance. Following it they are going to
go after the enemy, no matter where they have gone. All the warriors agree to it.
Then they have a war dance that night for a few hours. The warriors bring their
equipment, knives, bows, guns, and all the weapons they are going to fight with.

The atmosphere on this occasion is very different from that
which marks the preparations for a raid:

During the war dance they show what they are going to use when they meet
their enemies. This dance means that they are going after all their enemies,
everyone except their own tribe members, any other enemies there are. It doesn't
have to be the ones that killed their men. They go after anything, a troop of
cavalry, a town. They are angry. They fight anyone to get even. When they go
out this way, they fight to win. When they are out, they might meet the same
enemy who killed their people. Then they turn for home after they have killed
all their enemies.

But whether the occasion is a raid for spoils or a punitive ex-
pedition demanded by bereaved relatives, attention is likely to
be directed to the enemy possessions:

Th?y bring in the captured equipment — guns, saddles, ammunition. When
the warriors come within sight of their camp, they all begin to shoot. Then
everyone is happy.

When the news comes to camp that a victorious war party is returning (a
scout is sent ahead with the news), everyone is excited because there will be
things to distribute, and they say, "Let us beat the drum and sing to greet our
heroes." The dancers are in two groups; one bunch eats while the other goes on
with the dance.

When the men went to Mexico and fought, they would bring back booty of
all kinds — blankets and horses. Then they have a dance which can take place in
the day or night as soon as they get back. They dance around the fire and the
scalp, if any was taken. Then the women dance with the men in the social
dancing.

Before this the men dance, and they call off the names of the brave men who
were down in Mexico. The men shoot off guns when a name is called. Then the
man called makes up his mind and goes and brings blankets and things and puts

336 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

them there. He tells the women to help themselves. Sometimes he kills a cow or
a horse for them. This is done mostly for women who have no men to take care
of them. Sometimes the man will just throw out things to the people.

WAR FOR VENGEANCE

The war dance. — Despite the identical designs on the enemy's
goods, the war party differs from the raiding expedition in pre-
liminaries, personnel, and tenor:

Only when they go out for revenge and fighting do they have the dancing
beforehand. A relative who wishes a revenge party goes to the leaders and head
men and asks them to use their influence to get one up. A large group would go,
usually on foot

All big war parties are undertaken to avenge deaths. The relatives of the
father of the dead person or of his wife will get it started and try to enlist as many

as possible. If they are important people, it will be a big party As many as

volunteered would go. Relatives of the dead man would agitate for the party,
and if there was a leader among them, he would be in charge of it.

The war dance is a dramatization of warfare itself and a pledge
on the part of the individual warrior to participate in the action
and to acquit himself bravely:

All the leading men notified the others that they were going to have a war
dance that night and that they were going after the enemy the next day. "Fierce
dancing" is what they called this.

All the Indians gathered that night. They didn't tell men that they must go.
They don't say, "You must go, and you and you." These Chiricahua feel as men
on their own. If things like war are going to happen, they themselves have to
show they are manly. It is left up to the individual to decide.

They brought a hide. They had a drum there, a pot covered with buckskin.
They went through the thing that has been handed down in tradition from the
original time. They know how to go through the performance; it doesn't have to
be told. Those who were going to dance put their moccasins on and made them-
selves just like fighting men in war. They had long hair, so they tied it in place
with a headband. Some who had long hair that came down the back tied it back
there in the middle so it wouldn't get in the way. The Chiricahua man wears a
long and wide loincloth which comes down in front to a place just above the knee
and further down in back, near to the ankle. For this dance they brought the
back flap through the legs and the front one around too and tucked them into the
belt. They don't have to do it if the ends are not in the way, but they want to
make themselves as "free" as possible.

What I saw was this. The upper parts of their legs were naked. The shirts of
those who wore them flopped around. Some wore cartridge belts as bandoleers.
Some carried guns.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 337

The dance always starts with four men. Four men came from the east to the
fire, just as the masked dancers do. They marched abreast in line, not one be-
hind the other. They went around the fire four times like this. Then two got on
the south side and two on the north. The singers and the hide that was being
beaten were on the west. The four faced each other in two pairs. They danced
in place. They danced toward each other, changed sides, turned around, and
went back. They did this four times. Then the fun began. Then they sang and
everyone shouted. The women from all over made that noise as they do in the
big tepee. Now it was anyone's chance to dance who wished to. They didn't
crowd forward at first though.

The other men were dressed just like those first four fellows. They don't paint
their faces or decorate themselves especially for the war dance; they come in just
plain. Now whoever wanted to dance got out there. They had guns. They put
cartridges in. They shot. They said by their actions, "This is the way I'm going
to act in the fight." They put cartridges between their fingers. Some put as
many as they could in their mouths.

Some men did not dance. They signified their intention of going to war by
coming out during the singing and marching around the fire once. It means, "I
am going out."

The men doing the dance did not shout. They just made a noise softly under
their breath, like, "Wah! Wah!" You can't shout in the war dance or in war.
The belief that has been handed down is that, if you shout in battle, many of you
will be killed. Those along the sides shout though.

The dance went on. At every song a new set of men came in and the others
went out and stood at the side. There were prayers going on over there. Every-
one along the side was praying during the dance. When a principal man's name
was called, he got out with his men. They get out in squads, sort of.

When just a few were left who hadn't come out, a few fellows who had talked
bravely when drinking tiswin, they were called on in the songs by name. All the
rest had been dancing and had shown that they were going out. Then they
called these last ones by name. They said in the song. "You, So-and-so, many
times you have talked bravely. Now brave people at Casas Grandes (or Chihua-
hua) are calling to you."

If a person who is called like that doesn't come out and make good his boasts,
he's considered no man at all. But few men would hold back when they were
called like that. They come out the first thing when they hear their names.

When all who were going to the war had danced, every one of them got in
there and they all went around the fire four times together, shooting as they
went. Then it was all over.

This dance is also a profound religious experience for the man
who takes part in it. "Some who had a spear, hat, and shield
made for them through a ceremony danced with them," thus

338 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

making a plea for success and personal safety in the coming con-
flict. The dance proceeds with prayer and ritual:

We dance one night and start the next morning. Everyone going on the party
had to dance for power. Men puffed smoke to the four directions and prayed:
"May I kill an enemy. May I get food."

The war dance lasted for four nights. We danced and prayed for good luck —
not to have fun. We wanted to see our enemy and have a victory. This was a
very strong ceremony. We asked our supernatural power to let us have the
Mexican general or president. We called him by name for four days so that we
would capture or kill him. We were always after him and prayed to get him.

The principal singer of the war songs, a patriarch whose super-
natural power is connected with raid and war, acts as another
link between this dance and the ceremonial complex. A knot of
male singers (women do not sing for the war dance) intone the re-
frain, beating on a piece of rawhide or on pottery drums, and
this shaman chants the half-sung, half-spoken prayers. In these
prayers, when the other voices are stilled, he calls upon the indi-
vidual to demonstrate his manliness. One war-dance song con-
tains these words (any name can be substituted for the one
that is used here):

Geronimo, they say to you,

You! You!
They call you again and again.

Inspired by the ceremonialism of the occasion, the chosen man
responds:

The shaman is on the side of the circle of seated warriors. He calls in his song

on such-and-such a warrior to dance He calls on one man after another

until all are dancing When the shaman calls, there is no backing out. I

don't care if the odds are against him, a man goes out if he is called upon. He is
frenzied, beside himself. It is the power, the prayers, and not just the man.

The use of the personal name acts as an exciting challenge to
the warrior:

In the war dance the singer actually calls a man's name. He pretty near has
got to go then. He's got to make some kind of a showing. "So-and-so, get up and
go to the enemy!" He's got to act when he hears this. He can't very well stay
back and keep his self-respect. When we appeal to a man to help, we use his
name.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 339

.... Not all come out at once. They name a man. This is in the song. They
say, "You are a man! Now you are being called. What are you going to do when
we fight with our enemy?" Then the man gets out and dances. Or, if he doesn't
want to dance, he walks around the fire once to show that he is game.

I saw a war dance in 1 883 at Fort Apache, when Chiricahua scouts were going
after Geronimo. They called all the people together in a big open space

Then the singer called a certain man by name. He said: "C, you are a man.
You are known to be a great warrior. You have fought your enemies in close
battle. We are calling you to dance." As soon as he said this, C. had his gun
ready. He sprang out there, shooting into the air. Then they kept singing and
called another name and another until four or five were out there dancing.

The women were at the war dance. But they didn't dance or mix with the
men. They stayed about six or eight yards away in a circle around the fire. They
made that noise they make in the big tepee at the girl's puberty ceremony. At
this war dance the women are all called White Painted Woman. A woman can't
be referred to by her own name here. And the men are all called Child of the
Water [except when they are named in the song].

Not all men are equally persuaded by this dramatic summons
to arms, however:

One fellow refused to fight the Mexicans because he had nothing against
them. Hearing the remark, another man started to spear him, but two or three
others stopped him. The objector sat down and actually cried. The rest of the
group was angry with him. They told him it would have been all right if the
other man had speared him. They told him, "You shouldn't say such things!
The Mexicans aren't that way and would like to kill you." They all hated him
and wouldn't allow him to go to war because his feelings toward Mexicans
wouldn't go well in war.

The "fierce dancing" of the warriors is usually followed by
social dances in which the women also participate. The first of
these is the round dance, named, for this occasion, "they show
resentment against the enemy." "It is done in connection with
the war dance before they go out on a war party. It takes place
after the war dance but the same night. The people are in a
bunch with the women on the outside. They go around the
fire in a circle. The circle dance is for everybody." After the
round dance come the very partner dances which take place dur-
ing the nights of the girl's puberty rite, and these occur in the
same relative order as on that occasion.

There seems to be some variation according to the scope and
seriousness of the enterprise in the number of nights these dances

34Q AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

continue before the war party starts. One view is expressed in
these statements:

They perform the war dance just at night before a fire. They dance all night
for four nights. These have to be successive nights. The "fierce dance" comes
first. Then there issocial dancing until morning. The people sleep during the
day.

The leader called all the men together and held a council. If they decided to
go to war, they would have a big dance. Before going on the war path the
Chiricahua had a four-day war dance.

Whether this is a concession to the sacred number rather than an
exact description is difficult to determine. At any rate, a one-
night dance has already been twice mentioned, and the possibil-
ity of shortening these preliminaries is suggested in other com-
ments:

They generally put on a war dance for two nights and then go out. They wait
a day and leave the morning of the fourth day. They do this to get rest and
sleep so that they will not have to sleep on the way.

The war dance is carried on at night. It is done for four nights, sometimes
two. Then they go. Usually the men rest up a day before starting out.

These excerpts suggest that the expedition need not start the
morning after the conclusion of the war dance, and this is sup-
ported by a direct statement: "The men do not have to start out
immediately after the dancing. They set a day. It may be the
fifth or sixth day after the dancing starts."

The preparation for war; war practices. — Sometime between
the announcement of the expedition and the departure of the
group, those who plan to go put their fighting gear in order. The
standard equipment is the self-bow, arrows, wristguard, war
club, and a stone knife. A few bring spears and shields as well.
After white contact, firearms appear.

The arrows prepared by the warrior are entirely of hard wood
or have a cane shaft into which is affixed a hard-wood foreshaft.
The tip is sharpened and fire hardened. Three feathers guide the
arrow in its flight. Occasionally, arrow poison is employed. "We
use it in time of war. To make it we use deer's blood and mix
this with plants believed to be poisonous. This mixture is al-
lowed to rot and then is put on arrow points." Variations of this

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 341

formula occur. One calls for the addition of poisonous insects to
putrifying liver; another is a mixture of deer stomach, blood, and
thorny plants pounded together and allowed to spoil. Of the ac-
tion of such poison, an informant declared, "A man hit with an
arrow dipped in this turns black."

The bow and arrows are fitted handily into a well-made bow
cover and quiver:

When the Chiricahua are on the march and are not using their arrows, they
carry them so that the feathers come over the top of the right shoulder. When
they are fighting, they reverse the bag so that the feathers come under the left
armpit, and they can be snatched out of the quiver with the right hand. For a
left-handed person it is just the opposite. Sometimes the quiver is carried over
the chest so it will be more handy.

Few men carry shields, for their manufacture is associated
with the ceremony obtained from weapons:

They wear the shield on the left arm (if right-handed). It is held over the
arm by one or two straps, whatever is convenient. There is no buckskin cover for
the Chiricahua shield. If I wanted to make one, I'd have to make it plain. To
get it designed properly I have to go to a man who knows how and I have to pay
him. A thing like this is made by a shaman, and you have to pay for it no matter
how little it is. The man I go to uses his ceremony for my protection and puts on
his design. Most shields have just a few feathers in the center and are of painted
cowhide. There is buckskin around the edge only. They are very plain.

Spears, too, are most often made and decorated, either for
themselves or for others, by shamans with "power of weapons."
Before European contact, spears were essentially lengths of
sharpened wood. Later, knives and bayonets were attached to
the ends. Because the use of the spear brings the warrior within
a few steps of his foe, fighting with this weapon is the kind of ac-
tion expected of war leaders or those who aspire to that status.
The spear rose in favor during the time of strife with the Mexi-
cans:

I remember back to the time when the Mexicans and other enemies used guns
that I guess they call breechloaders.7 The Chiricahua were using arrows, war
clubs, and spears then. The spear was used when the enemy was taking time to
load his gun. The Mexican used to have that big gun. He would shoot once, and
the Indian who was a good runner charged him and pushed the spear in him.
The Mexican didn't have time to reload.

7 Probably the informant is thinking of a muzzle-loader.

342 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

After the fast-loading gun with cartridges already fixed was in use, you had to
be very quick and a good warrior to use a spear. Not everyone used spears. Just
a few were brave enough to use a spear that close.

Before the beginning of the journey constant measures of a
religious nature are taken. Amulets are procured; protective
caps and jackets are made or refurbished; shamans are consulted
concerning the probable outcome of the expedition. "The leader
goes to a shaman and says, 'You know something. Help us.
What will happen?' Then the shaman sings and prays and he
tells the people to go on, that they will have success." Some-
times the prophecies of the shaman are not so reassuring, how-
ever. "Before they leave camp they might all go in a body to the
shaman. He conducts his ceremony, and if he feels that the raid
will not come off safely, he says so, and the party does not go
out.

Raiding and warfare are the special interests of those who
have supernatural power to find or frustrate the enemy. There-
fore, one or more shamans are fairly sure to accompany any
large war party. Not infrequently the leader himself is a man re-
nowned for his religious attainments as well as for his military
prowess. During the entire course of the journey the advice of
those who claim revelations in regard to war are treated with re-
spect. Even if the party does not include eminent shamans, the
rank-and-file warriors do not fail to come ritually prepared:
"Each warrior carries a bag of pollen. Pollen is given to him with
other herbs if he gets sick [during the war expedition]."

The entire encampment gathers to watch the departure of the
group. "They start sometime in the morning. When they are
going for a real fight, everyone sees them off. When the men
leave in the morning, the women give their call of applause."

The women, especially the wives of the departing men, have

certain obligations during the absence of the warriors:

The women are careful about keeping the woodpile neat while the men are
gone. The wood should be placed one way and should not be scattered, and the
children should be kept off it for fear they will throw it around, and then the man
will be lost. There are no other restrictions on the women when the husbands are
out fighting. Some women pray when their husbands are out. Some are as reli-
gious as anything, but this praying is not general. During raids or wars the

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 343

women had to be good and behave carefully so as not to give bad luck to the
man. All of a man's relatives were under this restriction.

When a very prominent man with many relatives has been
slain, or when an attack on an unguarded camp has aroused great
anger, caution is forgotten. "When we are at war and out for a
fight, we go right to the trail and face the enemy in the daytime.
We are not particular."

Once a San Carlos Indian cut off a Chiricahua's head, and it led to much
trouble and an outbreak. J. was right in the particular Chiricahua bunch when
it happened.

Some Chiricahua had been away from the reservation. The U.S. army men
had been after them and had offered twenty-five dollars for every hostile Chirica-
hua's head brought in. This bunch of Chiricahua decided to come in. They came
close to the agency and were eating there. They put J. on a ridge to watch and
stand guard. Finally J. was relieved by another boy, a good-looking young
Chiricahua. A few minutes later, as he was sitting on the ridge with his gun
across his knees, looking in the opposite direction, a San Carlos Indian crept up
behind him and shot him. As soon as he shot, he was on this boy with his knife
and cut his head off.

The rest of the Chiricahua came up and saw what had been done. They were
as angry as could be. They found out who had done this and went down to his
camp to get him. But he had been warned and got away. His wife and several
children were there, though, and they killed them and left them lying right there.
They went out and began shooting into other near-by San Carlos camps. They
were so angry they didn't care what they did. Then they made for the hills.
And so there was another outbreak.

But ordinarily rage is tempered by reason, and the war party
moves in a disciplined way:

When they start out they have two men ahead and two behind; they have
scouts on every side. When they are ready to camp for the night, they send
scouts ahead and in the directions to look for the enemy until dark comes. Early
in the morning they do the same. These scouts come back and report.

On the march "the men of each cluster [extended family] stick

together near their own leader." But, generally speaking, each

person is responsible for his own welfare:

Each individual usually takes his own provisions with him. He takes some
mescal and dried meat which he carries in a buckskin or hide bag attached to his
shoulder strap [bandoleer! . The fire drill, if he has one with him, can be carried in
this bag too. He carries water in a container made of the intestines of animals.
He just ties the ends to keep it shut. He doesn't carry a water jar, because they

344 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

are clumsy and because when it gets warm the water gets a pitchy taste. Some
might go on horseback and some on foot. Each man cooks for himself; each man
eats what he has. If they capture horses from the enemy, each man ropes the
best horse he can.

The leader of a shaman sometimes decorates the faces of the
members of the group:

There is no special way of face-painting for all warriors. Some leader like
Geronimo who has special power might decorate his men as his power directs
him. Geronimo used to mark his men on the forehead, the sides of the face, and
across the nose.8 It was his own way though and not the way of all the Chirica-
hua.

Attached to the party sometimes are novices, though there is
a tendency to encourage their attendance on the less hazardous
raids instead:

Just the young boy, the novice who is fourteen or fifteen years old, takes a
stick and reed for scratching himself and for drinking water. They have to use
the sacred language while they are out. These boys have to use this kind of talk
around camp too as long as they are novices. On the warpath or raid the men call
the novice Child of the Water.

On the journey the shaman's advice is a powerful influence in
determining the decisions of the leader:

Any big war party will have a shaman along to tell them how to get success.
He tells them whether to go to the open country or whether to keep back in the
hills where the enemy are. They don't have to take any certain shaman along on
a war party. There is sure to be some regular warrior along who has power.

Of the time and manner of attack on enemy camps, this ac-
count has been given: "We usually attack early in the morning.
We are quiet when we go to attack. We fight in hand-to-hand
action, and the individual can advance or retreat according to
his chance and how the fight is going. In the battle the men
obey the leader."

The role of the leader in the actual conflict is a central one:

Before the engagement each leader would talk to his group and encourage
them. He would go before them in battle and perform great feats to spur them
on. After the engagement he had to lead his men to safety and water.

8 One informant gave a secular reason for the face-painting: "The white
paint on the faces of Geronimo's men was to mark them in battle so they
wouldn't kill their own men."

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 345

The shaman and the leader entered right into the fight. In a battle the leader
and the shaman would each be on one flank of the men. The leader would detail
two to go out in front. If the enemy should begin to charge them, the leader
would order all his men forward immediately. The leader takes the front and the
shaman the rear, urging the men forward.

The position of the shaman at this time is not due to reluc-
tance to risk combat with the enemy. He falls behind "to per-
form his ceremony and prevent injuries." This ceremonial func-
tion may even overshadow in significance leadership of the more
warlike type, for ceremonialism is injected into the military ac-
tion from beginning to end. In a description of a specific war
party which he accompanied and in which he and his kin avenged
the death of a relative, an informant reports: "When the war
party was ready to attack, the shaman prayed, turned to the four
directions, then faced the warriors, and ordered them to charge."

Should the warriors find themselves in jeopardy, they resort to
strategy, as in this method of rendering Mexican firearms in-
effective:

During the battle the Chiricahua used bows and arrows and spears but had no
rifles. The Mexicans were not afraid of bows and arrows, so the Chiricahua
leader would send two Indians into the open, just out of range. These two men
would try to avoid the bullets; they were protected by the shamans and were
never shot. The reason they sent these two men out was that the Mexicans'
rifles would become heated after a while and they would not be able to shoot
straight. I saw this happen often, for I was at war nearly every month.

After the two Chiricahua had been in the open for perhaps half an hour, they
would go back to the line of warriors. Then all would charge the Mexicans and
kill as many as a hundred. Often the Indians would kill all of their foes; those on
horseback might get away, but never those on foot. The only way the Mexicans
could beat us was if some Chiricahua men were scouting and the Mexicans made
a raid on their home camp in their absence.

When hard pressed, the warriors are capable of arranging
traps and ambushes:

Suppose there were forty or fifty men out on the war party. The enemy is
right after them. They get to a brushy place. They all go straight ahead and
then they divide, and part come back on the side in the bushes. The enemy goes
right on. The Chiricahua ahead begin shooting. Then when the enemy turns, the
Chiricahua in their rear and on the side begin to shoot. They did this many
times. They always have a couple of scouts behind and on the side and a couple

346 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

ahead in the roughest places, looking for signs of the enemy. These are the
fastest men.

Another trick is like this. If the enemy is right on their trail and is catching
up to them, they get into the roughest, most rocky place they can find. Two
Chiricahua scouts stay behind and show themselves to the enemy while the rest
conceal themselves. These two act as though they didn't know the enemy is
there. They get in range of the enemy. They act as if they had no idea the enemy
is in sight. They go toward the place where their own men are. They are watch-
ing though, and are ready to jump and run as soon as the enemy shoots at them.
When this happens they will be running toward their own men. These Chirica-
hua see them coming and let them pass. But the enemy comes after them, and
before they know it they are in front of the Chiricahua weapons. This has been
done several times, they say. They have to plan what to do beforehand to ac-
complish it.

In the thick of battle the use of the name again operates as a
solemn claim:

If we are having a fight with Mexicans, or are in any other kind of battle, and
everybody runs away from me and leaves me with the enemy shooting at me, it
is all right to call a man's name to get help. Maybe P. is the last man and he is
starting away and is about to pass me. I call him by his name and say, "Don't
leave me here alone with these people!" Then he would say, "Well, that's my
name," and he would turn around and begin to fight again. That's how the
name is used. If you call his name, it is almost impossible for a man to leave you.
In time of peace a person doesn't like to be called by his name.

If superior numbers are encountered or if the fight is turning
out badly, the warriors disperse:

Sometimes they scatter out and agree to meet at a certain place on a certain
day. A small group goes this way and another goes that way. They run on rocks
as much as possible so that their tracks will not be seen. They say, "Go on rocks
so your tracks will not be fresh. Keep off soft ground."

A person hides his tracks by jumping from rock to rock and from bunch of
grass to bunch of grass to get away from those who are following. Another thing
he does sometimes is to take grass and rub out his tracks with it so they won't be
noticed at some places where they are too plain.

Signs on the trail or other devices may be necessary in time
of war:

Sometimes they tie a piece of something on a tree and then on another so that
they can be trailed by friends who are looking for these signs. The pieces may be
a whole day's journey apart. But the Chiricahua is looking for it as he goes along,
for the agreement has been made, and he knows what the sign will be. Or they

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 347

might agree that a stone pointing in a certain way will be a sign. Lines on the
ground are also made to indicate which way they are turning on the trail.
Dropping a stick in the direction in which you are traveling is another way.

The wolf howl may be simulated by the members of a scat-
tered party. "The warriors would call to each other with the
wolf howl. When the Mexicans were our enemies, we used to
howl to each other in this way so that the enemy would not know
who we were."

The smoke signal, too, is used to some extent:

If a group agrees that when they get to a certain place they will make a smoke
signal, the others watch for it. None is made except on agreement. It has to be
used during the daytime. Sotol is used to make these smoke signals.

For signal smoke a fire is built, and damp wood and grass are put on; this
makes a smoke that can be seen for great distances. Whenever the Chiricahua
see smoke from a long distance, they know something is happening. The smoke
always means something, usually that there are enemies or that there is an
epidemic. If it means the first, the smoke is from a mountaintop. If it means
sickness, it comes from a camp in the valley.

According to another informant, the smoke signal can be used to
determine whether members of an approaching group are friends
or foes:

If one party of men sees another in the distance, it lights a fire to the right of
it and sends up one column of smoke. This means, "Who are you?" If the other
group builds a fire to its right and sends up one column of smoke it means, "We
are Chiricahua and friends." To send up the smoke, they put wet grass on the
fire and throw a rock on top. The weight of the rock makes the fire burn fast.
Then you scatter the fire quickly to stop the smoke.

Finally, the smoke signal serves to acquaint the home camp of
the war party's safety:

If, when the warriors leave, they are not certain at just what time they are
coming back, the people who are left behind must look for smoke at a certain
mountain or canyon that they name. These people have to have a scout looking
for this smoke. For instance, they say they will be back in fifteen days. The
days pass, and they are not back. Then those left behind look for smoke from
that day on at the place they mentioned.

After the introduction of the mirror, some use was made of it
for signaling in times of strife:

348 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

We used a mirror. Quivering a beam toward strangers and then casting out a
long beam from you means, "Who are you?" The others reply, "A friend," by
directing the beam toward themselves and then in a circle toward you. Flashing
downward with the beam means, "Come." Flashing to the right means, "Go
right," to the left means, "Go left."

One of the chief benefits of star lore, apparently, is to help
raiders or warriors find their way about:

I can't tell you much about the stars. I never paid much attention to it. But
you take a man like L.: he's been out at war many times. He has had to go by
the stars. He knows all about them and what direction they are moving in.

Timekeeping devices are important to the warriors and to
those awaiting their return:

Suppose you had promised someone to be somewhere in a certain number of
days. You'd have to start at the right time to get there. So every morning you
would throw a stone in a certain place and keep count of them. In this way you
would know when to start. Or you might do it with marks on a stick. I have
heard of doing it with beads on a string too. A few, maybe one or two out of the
whole tribe, kept time by beads.

When a war or raiding party scatters, some individuals may
lose their way, and they are likely to suffer from lack of water.
Certain aids are therefore taught to everyone:

We are taught, when thirsty and without water, to put a dry stick or stone in
the mouth. I have done it lots of times. It starts the saliva and helps you. We
melt snow for water when we find some in the mountains. Different kinds of
cactus are used when we are in the flats. We chew the inner parts of the cactus
for thirst. No matter how hot the weather is, that is always cool. Barrel cactus
saved many people too. To get the water you knock the top off. There is water
in there; it's like a watermelon. To get the water, you have to squeeze the pulp.
And we get rain water from mescal. This plant holds water [in the basal leaves].
The animals get water from these. The deer and horses drink from them. In the
south the big ones grow. To drink, the man uses a reed or something hollow if he
has it and sucks it out.

In emergencies, improvised footgear must sometimes be
made. "When the Chiricahua were caught out on the raid or at
war and their moccasins gave out, they took grass and tied it to
their feet with two or three strips of yucca."

The warrior has little respect for a senseless sacrifice of life,
but when he is brought to bay he is capable of furious resistance:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 349

When a Chiricahua is cornered and desperate and thinks the end has come,
he tears off his shirt and headband. He tears off all his clothes but his loincloth,
and he goes right into the thick of it. Sometimes he fights so hard that he gets
away.

The wounded constitute a major problem of war: .

If anybody is wounded on the warpath, they try to bring him back. But it is
often far, and they often die. If they get back, herbs will be used on the wounds,

and the shaman will sing Cures might be worked on the warpath if there

was somebody along who knew how.

Scalping and the taking of captives. — Scalping is a very recent-
ly acquired custom and one for which there is limited enthusi-
asm. A number of spokesmen flatly denied that scalping is a
practice of their people:

The Chiricahua never scalp. They never bother with them. They don't like
them. It looks as if it is against their religion.

I don't think scalping is the habit of the Chiricahua, for I have not seen
many try it. It looks as though a few saw other Indians do it and tried it.

Retaliation for atrocities visited upon them is the explanation
most often given by those who admit that some scalps were tak-
en. The Mexicans are frequently blamed for the development
of this form of revenge:

The Mexicans used to take scalps. They started it first — before the Chirica-
hua. They used to take scalps, including the ears, and sometimes they took the
whole head. The Chiricahua would make peace with the Mexicans. Then the
Mexicans would give them liquor, get them drunk, take them in their houses, and
cut off their heads. Then the war would start again.

Scalping is used as a last resort on a man who has made a great deal of trouble
for the Chiricahua. Such a man, when finally caught, would be scalped and
"danced on." He was scalped after he was dead. The whole scalp was taken off.
In the dance the pole is in the center with the scalp on top, and they dance
around it. The scalp is thrown away at the end of the dance. This is used
mostly on Mexicans who did awful things against the Chiricahua.

While the Mexicans were undoubtedly the special object of
Chiricahua hatred during this period, the data indicate that the
scalping of members of other groups did sometimes occur. But,
in any case, scalping was never carried on extensively:

350 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

They scalped enemies. They did it to the whites. They put the scalp on a

stick and hold it up and dance They put it on a tree after the dance and

let it dry and rot away.

The Chiricahua do not take the scalps of all the fallen enemies; but they
take just one scalp, that of the man they believe to be the leader. Then they all
go home with the stock that they have captured. They take this one scalp home
with them.

At home the hair of the scalp is tied onto a stick, and one man holds this stick
upright with the scalp at the top of it. They have a dance around this scalp,
lasting four days. The reason for the dance is that it is revenge for their dead,
and they are proud, thinking that they are even with the other side. The widow,
mother, and sister of a dead warrior feel proud when they see the scalp. They
feel that they are even with the other side, and they take part in the four-day
dance. They dance the round dance.

There is no interest in accumulating scalps; instead there is a
fear of them. "They just let the scalp stay there until it wastes
away; they don't do anything to it. Those who handle the scalp
usually burn the 'ghost medicine' so the ghost won't bother them
in any way."

All specific accounts of the scalp dance, incidentally, are from
members of the Eastern band, neighbors of the Mescalero
Apache and nearest to the Plains and its influences. Persons
from other bands deny that they shared the custom. Said a
member of the Central band: "I have never heard of a scalp
dance among my people. I have been asking the old people. All
say the Central Chiricahua do not do this." And from a man of
the Southern band comes the statement: "We did not scalp or
display a scalp at this time or any other. We are afraid of the
blood and the ghost of the man. We didn't want to have any-
thing to do with it."

Prisoners are taken in battle for a number of reasons:

When they capture a prisoner they always question him and get what in-
formation they can. If he won't give it, they usually kill him right there, or else
they take him back to camp for the women to kill. Grown men are never kept
alive to be married into the tribe or enslaved. A mature man is dangerous, and
they kill him. But a young boy of four, five, or six is adopted into the tribe.
He becomes a real Chiricahua and later marries into the tribe. Children like this
are captured when their father and mother are killed. The Chiricahua take the
children to increase the tribe, and they are treated like other children. When the

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 351

Chiricahua attack a village, they don't kill the women and children much, but
let them run away.

The violent end of adult male captives at the hands of venge-
ful women has been described by several informants:

The Chiricahua treated Mexicans in a rough way when they were captured,
but they didn't treat Americans like that. These Chiricahua were more the
enemies of the Mexicans than of any other people on earth, because the Mexicans
treated these Chiricahua in a nasty way.

They say they used to tie Mexicans with their hands behind their backs.
Then they turned the women loose with axes and knives to kill the Mexican
prisoner. The man could hardly run, and the women would chase him around
until they killed him.

But usually they had to ask the head man whether he wanted it done. Then,
even if he didn't want it done, the warriors could vote on it, and, if he was over-
ruled, it would be done anyway. Usually the people whose relatives had been
killed wanted it to be done. They wanted to have their way about it.

When a brave warrior is killed, the men go out for about three Mexicans.
They bring them back for the women to kill in revenge. The women ride at them
on horseback, armed with spears.

Women captives are rarely taken; when they are, there can be
no sexual interest in them:

When Chiricahua men are on the raid or warpath and they capture Mexican
women or women of other tribes, they don't do anything to them. They are
afraid to have sexual intercourse with them, for they say, if they do, their luck
will be spoiled. They can't do it. But the Mexicans did it every time they got
Indian women.

Even after arrival in the camp, it is considered improper to mis-
treat the women captives sexually. "The Chiricahua do not force
a woman captive. If you can make her love you, all right. But
she is not mistreated."

The only captive really desired, then, is the small boy:

Our warriors would try to catch a young boy. They don't bother with women
and older people. All the prisoners who were brought back and lived with the
Chiricahua that I know about were males. At first they have to act as servants.
They have to eat as servants. Some escape after a while. Others stay.

It is taken for granted that they belong in the group; they become members
of the group. The feeling of captivity wears off in time. Such a boy can marry
into the tribe later, and his children are accepted as members of the tribe. The
captive is brought up by the man who captures him. He calls the man father and
the woman who adopts him mother.

3$2 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The victory celebration. — With their booty, the captives, and
the scalp, if they have taken one, the warriors journey home-
ward as rapidly as possible. "When the men come into sight, all
the women gather and give their call of applause." If horses or
cattle have been obtained, these are distributed, and "everyone
who took part in the war gets his share." Each warrior keeps the
personally obtained enemy possessions which have fallen into
his hands.

A victory is celebrated in dance, song, and feasting. "There is
a big fire, and they dance all night and for four days and nights.
Some hardly sleep for the four days, they are so proud. All the
warriors are dressed as they were in the fight, and some of them
wear a hat that they use in battle."

The dances now performed parallel those which took place be-
fore the start of the war party. The first of the set is the "fierce
dance." "They have the same kind of war dance they had be-
fore the men went out. They have this first and then have social
dancing." Again the men are called upon by name, this time to
show how they acquitted themselves in the struggle:

In the songs that follow, the singers tell what the man dancing did. They
say, "So-and-so, you did a great thing. Come out and show what you did."
Then this man whose name is called comes out, and he shows in action what he
did. He doesn't say anything. Those fellows who sing were in the fight. They
saw what he did; they tell it in song. Some are too lazy to do anything more than
go around the fire once when they are called like this. The war dance the night of
the return is the same as before going out.

After the warriors have received recognition, general dancing
takes place. "Not only the warriors but all the people who feel
good dance. They dance the circle dance, the couple dance, and
toward morning the men and women line up in opposite rows,
and the two lines go back and forth together. All is just a good
time.

The first of these dances in which all those present take part
is the round or victory dance, this time called "they come in
with the enemy." It is during this dance that the scalp is dis-
played by some of the groups. When this occurs, it forces no
great shift in psychology or content:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 353

The round dance takes place after the war dance at the return of the party.
It can come at day or night. The dance is to show that they hate the enemy.
The men are in a knot in the center and go around the fire with drums, singing.
The women are in a circle outside facing toward the men. They dance in a sun-
wise circle. The men go around too. They sing songs about raid and war, like:

Whatever you have brought back with you,
Give me some of it.

This is a sample of the songs sung; they have to do with what happens on the
warpath. Another of these songs tells of one who got out on a war party and
then got separated from the others. In the words it says:

I've been wandering around,
Wandering around;
When I got home,
Everyone had moved.

The partner dance, in which the woman is free to choose a
male partner, follows the round dance, just as it does the nights
of the girl's puberty rite. Again the women are paid by the men
who have danced with them. One informant claims that the ob-
ligation to pay the dance partner is fundamental to the victory
celebration, when the men are in possession of booty, and that
the gift-giving following the dancing of the puberty rite is an
outgrowth of this custom. "The only time men paid for social
dancing in the old days was when they returned from the war-
path," he asserts. "They did not pay for dancing with women
during the puberty ceremony in the old days."

In the fourth dance of the night, as at the girl's puberty rite,
a line of men and another of women face each other and alter-
nately approach and separate.

A Southern Chiricahua informant mentioned one other dance
which he claims sometimes took place at a victory celebration.
This he calls "holy singing walk." As he describes it, a single
line of individuals, with men and women alternating, extends
spokelike from the fire and swings around it sunwise: "They
dance this when they come back from a war party, after the
'fierce dance.' There are no partners to it. Religious songs go
with it; this is more of a religious dance."

There is no evidence that conventional morality is totally dis-

354 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

carded at this time, but there are suggestions that more freedom
than usual is allowed:

The dancing may go on for two, three, or four days. There is much feasting.
Some people are eating, others are dancing. There are many marriages during
this period. The Chiricahua, when they were captured and taken to Mexico,
noticed that, when the Mexican people had a big victory, they always celebrated
by dancing and marrying and having a good time. To get even with them, the
Chiricahua turn their victories into a celebration and a dancing and marrying
time. Many young men take advantage of the occasion.

Thoughts of death are not permitted to interfere with the
happy mood: ''Dead warriors are not mentioned in the songs,
and the deaths are in no way formally announced. When the war
party returns, the members state the news of the casualties pri-
vately." There is no general purifying rite for those who have
come in contact with corpses during the fighting. The use by
some of "ghost medicine" to stave off evil effects is "an individ-
ual matter; they don't do it in a bunch."

THE GATHERING AND UTILIZATION OF WILD FOOD PLANTS

The responsibility of exploiting the wild-plant resources of
the region falls to the women:

While the man is hunting, the woman gets up before sunrise, builds the fire if
the man hasn't already done so, and cooks the morning meal, using meat if there
is some, vegetables if not. Then she goes out to gather seeds or plants, leaving
the small children with another woman. She gathers yucca fruit, pinon nuts, or
whatever is in season and carries it all home to prepare.

Gathering, preparing, and storing fruits and vegetables pro-
vide a continual round of labor as the women follow the natural
harvests:

In spring they go out for mescal. They keep going for it for some time. They
get plenty of it and store it up. By the time that is done they can go out after the
first acorns and bring them in and store them in bags. Then the yucca fruit and
the sumac berries and other things are ready.

The preoccupation with the growth of wild plants is reflected
in the attitude toward the seasons and in the names of the princi-
pal time periods. Besides the four seasons, six time periods, be-
ginning with the first signs of spring, divide the year. Their

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 3$$

names, in order, are: "Little Eagles," "Many Leaves," "Large
Leaves," "Large Fruit," "Earth Is Reddish Brown," and "Ghost
Face." "Little Eagles" refers to early spring; "Many Leaves"
covers the period of late spring and early summer; "Large
Leaves" is midsummer; "Large Fruit" (some call this period
"Thick with Fruit") designates the harvest time of late summer
and early fall. By late fall the hills assume a color for which the
term, "Earth Is Reddish-Brown" seems appropriate. Dread of
the lifeless winter is expressed in the name, "Ghost Face." The
entire year is called "one harvest." "Ten years ago would be ten
harvests ago." Periods of time shorter than the six divisions
with descriptive names are reckoned from new moon to new
moon. "You say so many days from the beginning of the new
moon," or, "So many new moons ago."

If food is to be gathered near home, the woman takes her large
burden basket and works alone or with her daughter or sister.
"They have a little jug to carry drinking water in while they are
away from camp. Often they stay out all day. They eat any
time they care to." When a long journey is necessary, a larger
party of women will set out together. "They go in groups of six
or so and keep their finds separately." Should the destination be
so distant that the group cannot hope to return for some days,
men or youths go along to protect them and to assist in the heavy
work.

Through most of the winter and until mid-spring the house-
hold must depend on stored vegetables saved from the preced-
ing year. But in the spring the narrow-leafed yucca sends up a
central stem which is gathered while it is still green, tender, and
without blossoms. Lengths of the stalk are placed on a bed of
embers and roasted until they are soft. The charred outer sur-
face is peeled, and the stalks are eaten without further prepara-
tion. Thicker stalks are sometimes roasted in an underground
oven. A hole is dug in the earth (one is described as four feet
long and three and a half feet deep) and a fire is kindled in it.
Stones are heated by placing them on top of the burning wood,
and the oven is lined with them. The woman peels the pieces of
stalk, pounds them or cuts them in half, places them on the

3$6 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

stones, covers them with dampened grass, and heaps a mound of
earth over all. If she does this in the morning, the food will be
thoroughly steamed by evening.

After the stalks have been cooked this way, they may be sun-
dried and kept for some time, even for a year, in a parfleche.
When they are wanted, they are soaked in water to soften them
and eaten. Or they may be eaten immediately after they have
been baked — often pounded — while they are still soft, with fruit
from the broad-leafed yucca or some other fruit. This stalk is
not the favorite vegetable, but it becomes important when other
food is scarce.

Available at this time also are the white rootstocks and the
tender lower portions of the shoots of the tule. These are boiled
with meat or made into a soup. ''We boil the root with a soup
bone as some people do turnips." The root is sometimes dried
and stored.

By now the clusters of white flowers of the narrow-leafed
yucca are in bloom. These are gathered and boiled with meat or
bones. Any surplus is boiled, dried, and stored. The buds of still
another variety of yucca (unidentified) are opened and dried.
During the process they must be impaled on sticks "as you dry
peaches; you cannot put them on a hide because they would

stick to it These are used to sweeten drinks." The drinks

are various kinds of "tea" to be discussed presently.

Not long after this an important food, the agave, century
plant, or, as it is more commonly known, the mescal, is ready.
The stalks, before any blossoms appear, are cut and roasted or
pit baked like yucca stalks, but much more important as a food
is the lower portion or crown. If the women live far from the
place where mescal is plentiful, they make a long trip to obtain
it, establish a temporary camp, and prepare it there before re-
turning home. When many crowns are to be baked, a large pit
must be dug and many rocks transported to it; therefore, men
sometimes accompany the party to assist with this heavy labor.
Whether men are present or not, the women are in charge of the
proceedings:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 357

When the stalks are just coming up and are going to blossom, we go to a place
where the mescal is plentiful and dig a pit in about the center of the region in
which we are going to get the plants. They are big and heavy, and we don't
want to carry them farther than we have to. If men are along, they dig the pit
while the women start bringing in the plants. There has to be plenty of wood too
and some big flat rocks. If the plants are scattered and a long way from the pit,
the woman uses a horse to carry them in.

The woman has an oak stick about three feet long, sharpened at the end like a
chisel. She drives this at the lower part [at the stem below the crown], pounding
it with a rock, and it [the crown] rolls out. Then she turns the plant over and
cuts off the outside leaves with a broad stone knife. Enough of the outside is cut
off to expose the white underpart. Then she brings it to the pit.

The pit is round, seven feet or more across and three or four feet deep. This
hole is lined evenly with rocks. Then a big pile of wood is brought. This is put
into the hole in criss-cross layers, first a layer one way and then a second layer
the other. It is built up like this until the pit is just about full. Then more rocks
are put on top of this wood. Fire is touched to it — from the east side first, then
from the south, then from the west, and from the north. Then the woman who
did this prays. They let the wood burn to ashes. Then they put the mescal in.
Each woman will leave a leaf on her mescal heads in a certain place so that she
can tell her own. Wet grass goes on top of the mescal, then dirt until no more
steam comes out.

The smaller mescal they put in during the late afternoon and let them go all
night. Sometimes they are ready the next day. To make sure, they take one
out, and, if it is not ready, they put it back and let them all go for a while. How
long it takes depends mostly on the size. The ones which grow to the south are
larger. The largest ones take four days. Usually they take about two days.9

"The botton part of the mescal, the part that is put in the
oven, has to be eaten at once unless it is to be dried and pre-
served. It will spoil if it is not dried." Therefore, the leaves,
called "wings," are peeled off and put in the sun to dry, and the
softer centers are pounded into thin sheets and spread out in the
sun. Juice, drained from pounded mescal suspended over a re-
ceptacle, is poured on the dried mescal sheets and forms a pre-
servative glaze.

When the mescal is sufficiently dry and cool to transport, the
homeward journey begins. Sometimes the "heads" are carried,

9 One informant, a Central Chiricahua, told of a method of baking mescal
without digging a pit. According to him, rocks are heated and scattered on the
level ground, the mescal crowns are put on them, and fresh grass and dirt are
piled over all. This "oven" has the appearance of a mound.

358 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

on horses, in loosely woven, traylike containers made of yucca,
and the sun-drying is done at home. Most of the mescal is stored
in the sun-dried, caked state. When a part of a dried crown is to
be eaten, it is soaked in water until it softens. It may be mixed
with juniper or sumac berries, pifion nuts, or walnuts for variety.
The leaves have a pithy, inedible center, but the inner surface of
each has a soft layer that is chewed or scraped.

Ordinarily, the woman goes out several times to gather mescal,
for she must have enough for general use and for storage. Since
each operation — the trip to the place where the plants grow, the
roasting and drying, and the return journey — requires several
days, this is a busy period. By the time the mescal stalks have
flowered and the plants are unfit for use, summer is at hand, and
other foodstuffs have made their appearance.

In early summer the locust tree is in flower. The woman picks
the blossoms and boils them with meat or other foods, or she
boils them in water, dries them in the sun, and puts them away.
Then, when she wishes to use them, "she can cook them over
again." The first of a number of varieties of wild onion is ready,
too. Onions are eaten raw or boiled with other vegetables and
meat. Later at least two other kinds are gathered. In the early
part of the growing season, too, especially when other food is
scarce, the woman strips off the bark from the Western yellow
pine, scrapes its inner surface, and heaps together the soft, sweet
material.

Though most of the sumac berries are not ripe until late sum-
mer and fall, one variety is ready now: "It [Rhus microcarpa] has
a small red berry which is picked and brought back. The berries
are spread out, and the good ones are picked out, washed, and
put in the sunshine to dry. After being ground, they are mixed
with mescal, and the mixture does not spoil."

From midsummer on, in certain localities, the berries of the
one-seeded juniper ripen:

They have a reddish tinge when they are ripe and fall to the ground. The
women pick them up and put them in sacks or burden baskets they bring with
them. When they are very ripe, they can be eaten raw, or, if they are still very
hard, they can be boiled just enough to make them soft. Another way to use

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 359

them is to boil them until they are quite soft and then mash them with the hands
to get the seeds out. What is left is boiled down until just a thick juice is left.
This is used more for health than food, although it is considered a regular food.
It has a laxative effect, and we eat it as the white man eats prunes. It has a
pleasant taste; you can eat a great deal of it, and it won't do you any harm.

In midsummer, too, the first of the edible seed-bearing plants
are ready. The woman gathers the seeds by running her hand
through the tops and dropping the seeds in a hide receptacle.
Threshing is accomplished by working the seeds around manual-
ly in the sack. To winnow them, the seeds are poured from a
tray basket to an outstretched hide below. The seeds are boiled
and eaten or ground on the metate with the mano and reduced
to flour from which bread is made.

Now such fruits as raspberries, strawberries, and the earliest
of the wild grapes can be gathered. All these are eaten fresh.
Grapes are sometimes dried and preserved, and raspberries may
be crushed, dried, and kept in caked form.

In the mountains in late summer the woman finds such varied
fruits and plants as the chokecherry, the mulberry, a species of
potato (Solanumjamesii, Torr.), and wood sorrel. Chokecherries
are eaten raw when they are very ripe and not infrequently are
dried, ground, and stored. Dried chokecherries are soaked in
water and eaten without further preparation. Potatoes are
boiled and eaten soon after they are gathered or are dried, stored,
and ground into flour for making bread. Mulberries are served
fresh or caked and preserved. Wood sorrel is eaten raw or cooked
with other greens. Another potato-like food (jpomoea lacunosa)
is available at about the same time. "It is like a potato in taste.
It's white and looks like an onion, but it doesn't taste anything
like an onion. It's about half the size of an onion. These are
eaten raw. You can keep them for a couple of weeks."

During the same period, in the lowlands, such plants as the
nipple cactus and the pitahaya yield their fruit. Of the latter,
the more important of the two, this description is given:

This cactus is like the giant cactus, but smaller. It grows in Old Mexico.
The plant is taller than a man. The fruit is as large as a man's fist. When the
pod opens, it is ready to be picked. It is ready about the middle of August. The

360 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

fruit is red and is eaten raw. The fruit is dried near the place where it is picked
and after it is dried it is piled into burden baskets and brought home. Some of it
is eaten fresh, but most of it is dried in the sun, caked, and stored. It never gets
really dry; it is always sweet and sticky. Sometimes the fruit drops to the
ground, and there are many ants in it when you pick it up.

At lower elevations the yellow fruits of the screw bean or
tornillo are one of the first of the fall foods to mature. These
sweet pods are eaten raw or are washed, dried, and ground into
flour for making bread.

For those groups whose territory extends well to the south, the
fruit of the giant cactus is available at approximately this time:

We eat the fruit raw when it is ripe. The women take a long reed stem or a
pole and pick the fruit off with it, for it grows high on the plant. They cake some
of it as they do mescal and yucca fruit. It never gets real dry; it is always sweet
and sticky. It is ripe about the last of August and in September. When you eat
it, you eat the seeds and all. The seeds are small, like those of figs.

Between the ripening of other foods, the last of the sumac
berries are picked. No sooner are these stored than the broad-
leafed yucca or datil fruit is ready:

Wrhen the Chiricahua are in the hills, they prepare yucca fruit for winter
food. They gather it in the fall, in the latter part of September here [at Mescale-
ro, New Mexico]. It is a pinkish color on the outside when it is ripe. It is good to
eat raw when it is ripe. When it is very ripe, it doesn't have to be roasted. It is
just cut open, the seeds are taken out, and it is spread out in the sun to dry. It
will keep all winter then.

But most of the fruit is picked before it is quite ripe. The women gather a
large amount. They roast it on the coals. When the fruits are black on top, they
are taken off, and the burned outside is peeled off. They are split in two, and the
seeds are taken out. The fruit is then put on a hide and pounded. Then they put
it over a container in a basket and let the juice run down. They can drink this
juice or pour it over the fruit again. It makes the yucca fruit soft and sticky.
After that they spread the whole mass out to dry in the sun. If rain comes, they
have to cover it up. It gets dry in the sun in two days. While it is drying, they
take sunflower blossoms and put them on to make it pretty. They pray while
they do it.

When it is dry, this fruit can be stored. It will keep like a cracker. During the
fall the women put piles of it away for emergency or for the winter. When it is
wanted, it is made ready for use by soaking and is then used alone or mixed with
other things.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 361

In the mountains at this season are gathered the sweet red
berries of the algerita. When these are cooked a little, they soften
to the consistency of a jelly. A portion of algerita berries is dried
and kept for winter use. Currants are picked whenever the
women, in foraging, come upon them. Hawthorne fruits are uti-
lized when they are found in abundance, but the dependence upon
them is slight. The berries of the alligator juniper ripen in the
fall and are at once added to the household stores.

Ready at this time also is the fruit of the prickly-pear cactus:

When the fruit is ripe, while it is still on the plant, it is first cleaned of spines
with a brush of stiff grass. It is then picked off with tongs of wood made by bend-
ing a branch on itself. While it is still held in these tongs, it is again brushed
with the grass. Then the woman puts the fruit in her burden basket, and when
she has many of them she takes them home. The fruit can be eaten fresh, or it
can be dried and saved. It must be preserved by drying or eaten at once.

To dry the fruits, she splits them, takes the seeds out, and leaves them in the
sun. They dry quickly if the sun is strong, but during rainy weather it takes a
long time. After the seeds are removed, the pulp is mashed sometimes, and the
juice that runs from it is put over the fruit again. It is kept in this caked form,
for the layer of juice acts to preserve it. If it is thoroughly sun dried, when it is
wanted for use, it is usually boiled. Sometimes soaking it in water without boil-
ing will soften it enough for eating.

Sometimes the fruit is mashed, the pulp is thrown away, and the juice is kept
for a drink. It is drunk while it is fresh and is considered healthful.

The mesquite beans are now large and ripe in the lowlands.
These beans are used in a number of ways. The woman grinds
them to flour on the metate and from this flour makes what can
best be described as a pancake. Or she prepares a kind of sweet,
thick gruel by boiling the beans and working the softened mass
with her hands. She also cooks the whole beans with meat; then
the seed coats are spit out when the food is eaten.

Walnuts, one of the important products, are sought at this
time:

The Chiricahua use wild walnuts. They carry them around in a parfleche.
When they want to eat them fresh, they just pick up those that have fallen on
the ground. If the nuts have been there for a while and are dry, they just crack
them and eat them. If there are many of them, they save some. In the winter
they sit and crack nuts and give them to their children.

But if they want to mix them with other things, like mesquite beans, they do

362 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

it differently. Then they gather them green, and each woman cuts a long stick,
six or seven feet long, just heavy enough so that a person can sit there all day
long hitting the nuts and hulling them. One woman will be sitting with hers
spread out on the ground before her; another will be a little distance away. They
have to do this near water, near a creek, and wash them. Next they spread them
out to dry for many days when the weather is good.

Then in wintertime they use the nuts with mesquite beans or mescal. They
sit there and pound the nuts with a stone, shell and all, just as fine as possible.
The mesquite beans are boiled and strained. For a strainer they use sticks that
cross or a branch that has many twigs. This catches nearly all the coarse mate-
rial. Then they put the nuts in but do not boil the mixture any more. It is ready
to eat then.

When this is finished, you can dip in there with your bowl and hold it to your
mouth and drink it like soup. This food is used nearly always at the girl's
puberty rite.

It's just the opposite from chewing tobacco. When you chew tobacco, you
spit out the juice and leave in the coarse stuff; when you eat this, you swallow
the juice and spit out the coarse stuff.

An Eastern Chiricahua added to the above that his people boil
the meats of walnuts as well.

The nuts of the Western yellow pine are not large enough to
gain much attention: "We don't pick them much; just a few
now and then." Of much more importance are the seeds of the
pinon pine. "When the outside shell is still green, the women
pick many of them, heat them, and then, when they are shaken
or stroked, the little nuts come out. Some ripen on the trees by
themselves, open, and the nuts fall to the ground. The women
pick these up too."

The women parch the pinon nuts for a few minutes until "they
get a little darker; then they will keep." There are a number of
ways of utilizing the seeds. They may be cracked with a stone
and the meats eaten alone, or the meats, when a sufficient quan-
tity of them is shelled, "are mixed with yucca fruit which has
been baked on coals; it makes good eating." As in the prepara-
tion of walnuts, the seeds, shell and all, may be ground fine on
the metate and mixed with other foods. Mesquite beans, mescal,
yucca fruit, and sumac berries have been mentioned as other
foods with which they are combined.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 363

The acorns of both the Gambel oak and the live oak are valu-
able foods, for the acorn is used in a kind of pemmican :

In the autumn the women wait until the acorns are ripe and fall to the
ground. Then they gather many of them and bring them in. Some people leave
them in sacks just as they are when gathered and later crack the shells with their
teeth and eat the nuts.

But some roast the nuts a little, crack them, and put them out in the sun to
dry. Then they use the nuts with the dry [jerked] deer meat and some fat.
First they pound the dry meat on a rock and mix it with a little fat. Then they
take the acorn meats and pound them up fine. After that they mix the meat and
the acorns together. They shape it like meat balls, and these keep all winter. If
they are camping in any place, they can have it for any meal. When it is made
this way it is all ready to eat at any time. You eat it just as it is. Because it is all
prepared, it is a good thing to take on a journey. When a big group is on a jour-
ney and a child is hungry, they give it some of this.

During the summer and fall the women gather various greens
for flavoring stews and soups. Lamb's quarter is one of these. It
is cooked with meat or bones, chili, and onions. Locust pods, the
white seeds of the anglepod, the seeds of the unicorn plant, and
still other varieties of wild potatoes and onions are procured at
this time.

A number of grasses and other plants (among them dropseed
grass, tumbleweed, pigweed, spurge, and sunflower) are har-
vested for their seeds. Most of these are hand threshed as previ-
ously described, or a large amount of the seed-bearing tops is cut,
put on a hide, dried, and beaten with a stick. The largest stems
and leaves are picked out by hand, and the remainder winnowed
"by letting them fall to a hide from a tray basket." The same
end may be attained by "tossing the seeds in a hide; then the
leaves are blown away."

To obtain sunflower seeds in quantity, the woman fills her
burden basket with the flowers and later lays them out to dry at
home. When the plants are thoroughly dried, the seeds can
easily be shaken out. Or, if the seeds are very ripe, the back of
the sunflower head is shaken or is given a sharp blow with a
stick, and the seeds fall into a burden basket which has been
placed under the plant. These seeds are ground up and are added

364 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

to meat dishes to form a gravy, or they are made into flour for
bread baked in hot ashes. Sunflower seeds and other seeds are
often placed with hot coals in a tray basket and "worked around"
until they are parched.

In the fall when the tule is yellow with pollen, the tops of the
plants are cut off, brought to camp, and dried. Then the dry tops
are shaken or struck over an outspread buckskin. Pollen is gath-
ered, without special ceremony, from other plants and from trees
by shaking them after placing a piece of well-tanned, uncolored
buckskin to catch it. Buckskin is always the proper receptacle.
It is said that "pollen would go through cloth," but more impor-
tant is the feeling that "it would be wrong" to use anything but
buckskin for pollen bags and containers.

From early spring to the onset of winter, the woman gathers
fruits and vegetables which grow at different elevations and in
different areas. She does not keep at this task steadily, for she
has many other duties. But she must be ready at the report of a
good natural harvest to leave at once for the region where it is.
Often it is near by; but many times the site is so far distant, and
the work ahead so time-consuming, that the entire household
goes with her and sets up a temporary camp. Using this as a
base, the husband hunts while his wife gathers the wild crop that
has drawn them there. Not infrequently more than one house-
hold or an extended family consisting of a number of households
temporarily leaves the larger encampment or local group on such
an errand. Thus, in order that the woman may obtain the vari-
ous foods in the order in which they mature, the household re-
mains a mobile unit, ready to detach itself from the local group at
short notice and to rejoin this group or another just as easily.

While the women are foraging, they are on the lookout for

beehives :

Honey is found in the stalks of mescal, sotol, and the narrow-leafed yucca.
The bee deposits the honey in the stalk. The bee which does this is a big yellow
one. The women search for honey in these stalks. They gather it in the fall.
They split the stalk 'to find it. It's like candy. I used to be great for honey!

Honey is also obtained from a large yellow bee that nests in the
ground. To secure this store, the device of allowing the bees to

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 365

emerge one by one and killing them as they come out is em-
ployed. A ceremonial touch is given the unearthing of these
ground hives. "When the Chiricahua come upon one of these
nests, they mark a big circle and say, 'May you be as big as
this/ Then they open it up."

When hives are discovered in trees or in logs, a smudge fire
is used to smoke the bees out. The co-operation of a man skilled
in the use of the sling is required when hives are found among
the rocks in cliffs. "He throws at it with a sling and brings it
down. The bees leave the hive. Then the people go and get the
honey. We put honey in drinks and eat it with bread." The
bees which nest in the cliffs and bluffs are described as smaller
and darker in color than the others. Sometimes a hive is wrapped
in a hide and brought home before it is opened.

THE COOKING AND PRESERVATION OF MEAT PRODUCTS

The woman is not only responsible for the preparation and
storage of the food which she herself collects but is expected to
take charge of the meat which the man contributes to the house-
hold:

A man hunts and butchers the game. He brings it in to the woman. After
that it's her job to take care of it.

I never heard of a man cooking when his wife was around in the old days. He
doesn't now either. Getting water is a woman's job too. I don't see any men
doing it even now. The same is true of getting and cutting wood. The men sit
around and smoke and tell stories when they are at home.

Certain parts of an animal are seldom eaten. Ritual restric-
tions placed upon individual members of the household must be
kept in mind too:

Some people ate pancreas a long time ago, I believe. I'm not sure. Now they
don't do it. Some shaman started telling people not to eat this and that, and
now they can hardly eat anything from the inside, it seems.

The Chiricahua does not like to eat any meat from the head.

It is dangerous to eat the heart. As a general rule the Chiricahua do not eat
the heart of an animal. I think to myself, "Well, I don't know what there is to it,
but I won't do it because it looks dangerous." My wife won't do it either.

366 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Ceremonial considerations, too, govern the consumption of
eggs, particularly for women:

We always ate eggs. Some women won't eat eggs for fear of getting children,
however. But this is according to the shaman's directions. We eat the eggs of the
quail and duck.

Those who do eat eggs prefer them boiled or roasted in hot ashes:

Some people eat the eggs of the quail, the duck, and other birds. A good many-
quail eggs are found together. The eggs are boiled, or a fire is made, the ashes are
pushed aside, the eggs are put in there, and the ashes are put back over them.

Most meat is prepared by broiling over an open fire or by boil-
ing, though some of it is pit baked. In the common broiling
processes the meat is suspended over the coals with a stick held
in the hand, or it is placed on top of the hot coals and turned at
intervals. Sometimes it is cooked by placing it on a flat rock
which borders a hot fire, while another rock, lying perpendicular
to the first, holds in the heat. The most choice portion of meat
is the fat part "on top of the ribs" next to the skin.

The favorite method of cooking wood rats, rabbits, and prairie
dogs is to bury them in hot ashes before skinning them, and then
to skin and eviscerate them when they are well roasted. But one
informant, in describing how rabbits may be cooked, said:
"Throw the whole rabbit on the coals. When it is partly cooked,
take it off", skin it, take out the insides, and put it back on the
coals to finish." Rats are sometimes skinned and cleaned be-
fore being roasted in hot coals. Wood rats and rabbits are also
boiled, but this is a less popular mode of preparation.

Mountain lion or peccary meat, when it is prepared for those
who will eat it, is roasted or boiled in the same manner as deer,
antelope, or elk meat.

For those who have no aversion to eating any part of the head,
it is cooked in a heap of hot coals or is steam baked in a small
pit : "My people put the deer head in the fire, cover it with ashes,
and let it cook. They break the eyes first. That is their way. It
is done for good luck." The pit-baking method resembles the
way in which mescal is prepared:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 367

When the head is used for food, one way to fix it is to dig a hole, line it with
rocks, and build a fire in there. It makes lots of ashes. Put the head in on top of
the ashes and grass on top of the head. Sprinkle the grass with water and cover
with dirt. Let it roast a day or a night. Usually the tongue is taken out first.

Sometimes the feet, liver, and entrails are placed in the earth
oven with the head and are cooked with it for a day or a night.

The pit is used, too, for cooking fetal deer and antelopes,
which are considered a delicacy. "The unborn of deer and ante-
lopes are good eating. The meat is soft and has a good taste.
We don't steam grown animals in an underground oven. But we
do do it to a deer not yet born. This can also be prepared like
any other meat, however."

Although the intestines are not so well liked as other parts, the
hunter usually brings them home:

The intestines are much better if the animal is fat. We don't care much for
the intestines anyway if we have plenty of other meat. If the hunter is loaded up
on returning from the hunt, he does not bother with the intestines, especially if
the animal is not fat. When he brings the intestines home, the hunter turns them
over with the other meat to the woman who is going to cook it. She takes the
outside off, working downward and squeezing out any waste left as she does so.
Then she cooks them without washing them. Now the young people turn them
inside out and wash them.

Intestines are cooked over the coals. Another good way to cook them is to
stuff a piece with meat and fat. The woman puts sticks through each end so the
filling won't come out. Then she puts it on a hot stone by the fire to cook. The
windpipe of an animal is stuffed in this same way too. But the intestine is used
just in an emergency when food is scarce. Now when we kill a sheep we throw
away the intestines. We save only the liver and sometimes the heart from the
inside.

Liver is usually thrown on the coals of an open fire and roast-
ed. Sometimes a sort of "blood sausage" is made. The hunter
fills the paunch with the blood of the animal he has killed and
brings it home. Then the woman "adds fat and onions and puts
it in the coals or in a pot, cooking it until the blood gets thick
and tastes like liver. She punctures the stomach so it won't ex-
plode. She puts in some of the little red chili peppers that grow
in the mountains of Old Mexico. These are small, like marbles."
When it is not used in this way, the stomach is seldom eaten:

368 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

"The stomach isn't often eaten. Now when we butcher a cow,
the stomach is thrown away."

Birds that are considered edible are most often boiled. Tur-
keys are eviscerated, plucked, and then boiled, for instance.

It is the woman's task, also, to preserve any surplus meat by
"jerking" it:

She takes the thick parts, cuts them thin, and hangs them up to dry in the
sun. To use the meat after it is dried, she pounds it up with a stone. It can be
mixed with fat then and eaten like this without being cooked. Or even without
the fat it is used on the march and in emergencies. When the people are in no
hurry, this pounded meat can be added to soup, boiled in water, or fried. It will
soften when boiled in water. This dried meat, in strips or in pounded form, can
be kept in caches or carried in sacks. Jerked meat, when the people are camping
in one place for a time, is laid over the higher limbs of a near-by tree.

THE PREPARATION OF BEVERAGES

The preparation of beverages, both alcoholic and nonalco-
holic, is classified with cooking and is, therefore, the task of the
woman. Of tiswin-making it was said: "A man would never
make tiswin. It would lower his standing. One man used to
make it, but he was a roughneck, and didn't care about his stand-
ing. He lowered himself many times."

The juice of the prickly pear is occasionally drunk, but "for
health" rather than for quenching thirst. Drinks which are com-
pared to commercial coffee and tea are described:

In those days when coffee was scarce, some people used the bark of different
trees, such as oak [Gambel oak] to make a drink. Some used a plant for tea. It is
better than the tea you buy. The English name for it is lip fern. It grows all
around here. There is another plant [cota] that is used for tea too. To make it,
some is just broken into convenient pieces, put in a pot, boiled, and the water
drained off. It is about the same color as store tea and tastes much the same.

Alcoholic beverages are made from mescal, sotol, mesquite,
and, more recently, from maize and wheat. Tiswin, the maize
drink, is the only one of these beverages which is made or con-
sumed in appreciable quantities. The people have become very
fond of this mild beer, and the services and company of a wom-
an who can make it well are in constant demand.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 369

It is possible that all these alcoholic beverages were inspired
by the customs of Mexican Indians and the Spanish-speaking
peoples to the south, as is suggested in this recipe for a sotol
drink:

There is a story that the Mexicans were making a drink out of sotol. I don't
know whether the Indians used to make it or not, but I guess they did because I
used to hear the old men say that it makes a good drink. To make it, roast the
crown of sotol in an underground oven just as mescal is roasted for food. Then
mash it up. Squeeze the juice out. Let the juice stand, sometimes in a hide in
the ground, until it ferments. If the weather is warm, it does not take more than
a day after it is standing. Then strain it, and it is ready to use.

In much the same way a drink is made from fermented mescal
juice:

Roast the mescal in a pit just as if you were going to eat it. Pull off the outer
leaves and cut the soft inner part into small pieces. Pound them, put the
pounded mescal in a hide, and bury the hide in the ground. Cover this and let it
ferment for two days. Then take it out and squeeze it by hand and mix the juice
with some water. It will bubble for a day or two, and then it is ready. It gets
strong.

The drink from mesquite beans is no more difficult to prepare:

The women know how to make a drink out of mesquite beans by boiling
them, draining off the water when they are soft, mashing the beans, and letting
the material stand and ferment.

The favorite drink, however, is tiswin, or "gray water," a
weak corn beer. The maize used in its manufacture was obtained
by trade or theft from Mexican Indians, Pueblo Indians, and
white settlers before reservation days. Tiswin is considered the
most nourishing of the beverages and is often spoken of as a
food, because its mild stimulation when taken in moderate quan-
tities has helped many a person withstand the rigors of travel and
want. "Many used tiswin for food in the old days. Many even
gave it to children when they didn't have anything else to feed
them." Tiswin is also considered the appropriate beverage to
serve during any social occasion.

To make tiswin the woman takes mature corn and shells it. She wants it good
and dry to start with. She soaks it in water all night. In the morning she puts
grass in a long trench, puts the corn kernels on top of this, and lays another layer
of grass over it. On top of this she may throw some dirt, or she may just put a

37o AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

blanket over the trench. Each morning she sprinkles the corn kernels and each
evening she sprinkles them just a little too. She does this for ten days or two
weeks. The kernels begin to sprout, and when the sprouts are about an inch and
a half long, she takes them out. She grinds them between two stones and makes
them fine. She goes over them twice more.

The ground corn is put in water then and boiled until half the water is gone.
It takes four or five hours to boil it down to where it should be. The container is
filled to the top with water again and the brew is boiled until it is a little way
from the top. The woman strains off the liquid now, lets it cool, and puts it in a
water jar or gourd. Some cover the jar to make the tiswin work faster.

Different women have their own ways of fixing it from this point on. Some
put aside some roasted mescal to ferment. Afterward they squeeze out the juice
and mix it with the tiswin. Nowadays some add ground wheat. The woman
who is making this tiswin grinds some wheat and puts it in the jar. She sprinkles
it on top with a circular, sunwise motion. She speaks to it as she does so,
saying, "I want you to make it good and not for fighting. I want everyone who
drinks you to be happy, not angry."

In an hour the contents of this water jar is bubbling, moving around. If the
tiswin is put in the jar in the evening, by late afternoon of the next day, when it
stops bubbling, it is ready.

The corn and wheat sediment at the bottom are taken out. This material at
the bottom is called "waste." It is always squeezed and the liquid from it saved
and drunk by the woman who makes the batch.

After the tiswin is ready it will keep about a day and a half. It will be too
sour for drinking after that. The taste is salty. It has a tendency to make you
put on weight if you drink too much of it. There are many ways of fixing tiswin.
Some shave oak root and put pieces of this in to make it strong. Some put
mesquite beans in for the same reason. Now they even put yeast in to make it
strong.

There is a proper manner of drinking tiswin, and its effects
are, of course, well known:

We eat, all right, before we drink tiswin, but not too much. I learned this
from B. and some other old men. I have noticed, myself, that if I eat a big dinner
and then drink tiswin, I get hardly any effect. And you haven't got room enough
to drink if you eat a big meal. Pretty soon you feel sick and can't drink. The
two things are fighting in there, and something has to be done. But when you
get through drinking you sure can eat! I've noticed that B. can eat about half a
steer after drinking tiswin.

That tiswin surely cleans you out! It makes you drunk all right, but it's corn,
and it feeds your body. And for two or three days afterward it makes your urine
just as white and clear as can be! It must do something to purify the urine. And
it acts like castor oil too; it cleans you right out.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 371

THE STORAGE OF FOOD AND SURPLUS POSSESSIONS

Only a limited amount of preserved food can be carried in
parfleches and sacks. The rest must be cached. "In those days
we had no place to store things when the women had dried a
great deal of yucca fruit, mescal, and berries. So we took this
food to a hole in the rocks, to a little cave."

These caches are in rocky caves. I've never known them to make one in the
ground. This is their secret supply. They can roam around away from this place
and come back toward it when they are hungry. Then they get out just so much.
They often have valuables in there — extra baskets and other things. An indi-
vidual household might have its own cache, or several camps of related people
might put their goods in together.

This is the way it is fixed on the inside. First a layer of rocks is put down.
Then a great deal of oak brush is laid on the rocks. The parfleches are laid on
this. Inside each parfleche are layers of food, layers of mescal or yucca fruit, each
layer separated from the others by grass. Sticks are placed between the par-
fleches. The entrance is closed up with rocks and then plastered with mud so the
room is sealed and airtight. Then they fix the place over with grass and dirt.
You can hardly tell it from the solid mountainside. Food will keep it there for a
year or so.

Perhaps they are camping a long way from that cache and they run low on
food. They can send a man after some of the provisions then. He closes up the
entrance again just as though nobody had ever been there.

Food is not considered an individual or personal possession.
The successful hunter sends his wife to her parents with the
game he has procured, or a large share of it. Most often the
women of the extended family prepare the food from combined
stores and hide any surplus in one cave cache.

The disposition of the stored food after the death of the wom-
an who was responsible, in whole or in part, for gathering and
preparing it, is a clue to the concept of joint ownership. One of
the most solemnly respected death customs is the destruction of
all objects which belonged to the deceased or were intimately
associated with him. But:

If a woman has some food stored up like that and she dies before she uses it,
many times it is used afterward. It is not considered her personal property.

The cached food belongs to the relatives as well as to the one who puts it
away, but only to the family and the relatives of the woman. If the family is

372 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

dying out, more distant relatives are told about the cache, and the secret spreads
out in this way, so the stores will be of use to those who need them and will not
go to waste.

AGRICULTURE

No attempt was made to cultivate crops until very recent
times. One, and perhaps two, of the three major subdivisions or
bands raised no crops at all until the modern reservation period.
The oldest Southern Chiricahua informant stated categorically:
"My people did not practice farming. The Indians had many
plants which were given to them [by nature] and did not have to
farm. They moved around too much also." The Central Chiri-
cahua were little more inclined toward agriculture. One of them
observed, "I do not think the Chiricahua ever planted before
they came under the influence of the whites." In 1873, shortly
after the establishment of a reserve for the control of the Central
and Southern Chiricahua, the first agent reported:

In regard to the future prospects for farming operations by these Indians, I
would state that I have conversed with Cochise and many of his head-men upon
this subject repeatedly, and I am of the opinion that it will require some little
time to bring them into the traces and make them submit to this exaction, which
must eventually be required of them. They have never been an agricultural
people, and claim that they do not know how to farm.10

But it is possible that the example of neighboring peoples
who cultivated the land may have led to experiments on the
part of individual families, as this statement of a Central
Chiricahua suggests: "Even in Old Mexico, the Chiricahua tried
to farm a little."

The Eastern Chiricahua, who seem to have had earlier friend-
ly relations and trade contacts with the Spanish-speaking towns-
people, began to farm even before the modern reservations were
established. By 1869, according to government reports, the
leaders of this band were complaining that they were being driv-
en from lands where they used to plant." Testimony from in-
formants corroborates these old reports: "These Eastern Chiri-
cahua Indians farmed before the whites came. They tell about

10 Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs^ 1873.

11 Ibid., 1869.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 373

the big ditches they used at Hot Springs." "We've had corn as
long as I can remember." "The Eastern Chiricahua planted corn
even in the old times." "All the groups of Eastern Chiricahua
planted." Maize was undoubtedly the first vegetable raised.
"When I was young," recalled a very old man, "we never had
any cultivated vegetables except corn. Later others came from
Old Mexico."

The influence of the Spanish-speaking peoples to the south in
the impetus toward agricultural pursuits is admitted:

The Eastern Chiricahua raised corn, pumpkins, potatoes, onions, chili, and
watermelons. We had a good deal of contact with Spanish towns. We learned to
speak Spanish, and the Spanish people showed us how to raise these things. We
got the seeds from the Mexicans too. We got big hoes from them or traded them
from the whites.

The Eastern band made good use of the intervals of peace:

If a Chiricahua had a Mexican friend, he would get corn as a gift, and the
Indian might give a horse or something else to the Mexican. We planted at Hot
Springs as well as in Mexico. We received corn up here, as well as in Mexico,
from the Mexicans living around. The Indians used to be good friends with the
Mexicans often. When I was small I used to play with Mexican children. They
gave me the name the white people call me by now.

The techniques of cultivation in use among the Eastern Chiri-
cahua are described by an informant:

We planted corn, cantaloupes, and watermelons. No squash or pumpkins
were planted at first. Some Chiricahua never had pumpkins or squash until 1 885
or 1886, except what they could get from other peoples.

We used irrigation. We dug trenches from a stream to the farm and stopped
these irrigation ditches with dirt when we wanted to block them. When the corn
was big enough to hoe, we went out in the woods and made a hoe of bent root.
Later we had hoes from the Mexicans. To make the holes for the seeds, we used
just a pointed stick. The men worked in the fields; the women worked in the
fields too, but mostly men did it.

Although this informant feels that agriculture is a legitimate
activity for men, another disagrees, saying: "Planting was con-
sidered a woman's job. That is the way I feel. At Fort Sill men
had to do it." "Men, women, and boys assisted," according to a
third spokesman. Evidently, the division of labor in agricultural
work was not clear cut.

374 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Another account from an Eastern band member adds to the
picture:

We lived by hunting, fishing, and gathering plants. But we planted corn in
May, too, with Mexican hoes that were traded up. The people kept camp near
their farms then, tending the corn, watering it, and weeding it. Men and women
both did the planting and other work. If the man was busy or off hunting, the
woman would do it herself. Corn is a favorite food, because it can be used in a
good many ways.

The Chiricahua picked up the trait [of planting] long ago in Mexico. Only
some of the families planted corn, but they could share their crop with their
neighbors. Only about six or seven families out of the hundred in a big encamp-
ment12 might plant corn, and each family would do it on separate land. Others
would help in the work on one of these plots, and then the owner would share the
crop with them. The seeds came from the Mexicans, and many didn't plant
partly because they didn't have seeds.

We also got beans, chili, squash, and watermelons from the Mexicans, and the
Chiricahua learned to plant these. The Chiricahua never specialized on plants —
each person who grew any, grew them all in his space. Some of the planted areas
were as large as thirty acres, but there were no lines between; everything was
free.

If some didn't want to plant, they could hunt. Then they would give their
neighbors meat, and the farmer who had a great deal allowed anyone to take
what he wanted. There wasn't any buying of things.

A more detailed description of the manner in which corn was

planted by the Eastern Chiricahua is the following:

The corn is soaked all night. Then two or three kernels are dropped in a hole.
They say the soaking makes it grow faster. Some plant the corn kernels deep.
This is when they are not soaked. W7hen you soak them, you don't bury them so
deep. Beans and pumpkin and watermelon seeds are soaked first too.

Agriculture never became so important that its symbols were
richly represented in religion or mythology. Occasionally, it is
advised that the corncob be put back in the husk to insure an
abundant future crop, undoubtedly an extension of the custom
of replacing the unused part of a medicinal plant. There is an
association of the katydid with crop-raising: "The katydid is an
insect the Chiricahua will not kill. We say it helps the crops
grow. We pray to it to help the crops grow." In discussing the

12 It is doubtful that encampments of one hundred families ever existed in
pre-reservation days. The informant's estimates of population and of the size of
farms seem excessive in this statement.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 375

various pollens used ritually, an informant included corn pollen
and remarked. "You can get some pollen from corn; they used
some of this a long time ago."

As in the case of other food products, it is the woman's task
to cook and preserve the corn:

They would build a big fire and bring in load after load of the corn in sacks.
Three or four women would work together. They would sit there and shuck corn
and put it in the fire and let it get brown on top. Then they would throw it to a
place where another woman sat. She would take the ears, cut off the kernels, put
them on a clean hide, and throw away the cobs. Then they spread it out in the
sun to dry. They would leave the corn out there for a week or two until it was
very dry. They can carry that corn around then, and it won't spoil. It will keep
for a year. They don't have to keep it in a cool place either. They store it in
parfleches and use it in winter.

In the winter when the snow gets to be two or three feet deep, a man goes out
and kills game and brings it in. Then they can use the dry corn with meat and
bones, letting it boil together for three or four hours. It surely makes a good
stew! We're using it right now, for we stored up last summer's corn. This dried
corn is used at almost every puberty rite now too.

The dried kernels are also roasted or parched:

I saw my people cook corn in a shallow basket many times. They put several

pounds of corn in the basket with some hot coals and keep working it around.

The corn kernels split, and then they take them out and fill it up again.

Another corn dish reflects the influence of Mexican towns-
people :

The Chiricahua never boiled the corn in the husks. They stripped off the
husks. They cut off the corn kernels and piled them up. They ground the corn
on a rock, using a big stone in the hand [mano and metate]. In those days flour
was hard to get, and they made bread out of the ground corn. They used the
corn husks to make a sort of tamale. They put some corn meal in a cornhusk and
wrapped it up, tying it with a thin strip of cornhusk. Then they put it in water to
boil with meat and bones. If they had chili, they put it in with the corn meal.

In season the corn is eaten fresh:

When they had the green corn, they cut the end off after husking it, broke it
in two, and put it on to boil with bones or meat. In summer when the corn was
ripe, they went out and brought in lots of it.

HOME INDUSTRIES OF WOMEN

In addition to her other tasks, the woman must furnish those
things essential to the proper running of the household:

376 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Men can carry wood, but they think it is woman's work. The women make
their own rope out of hide, a special rope. It is about five yards long and of hard
rawhide. They soften it with brains just enough so they can tie it. The women
use this rope for getting wood.

When a woman is going to get some wood, she doesn't carry great logs. She
gets thin pieces of brush and sticks about three feet long and makes them into a
bundle about a foot and a half thick. She ties the bundle at either end with this
rope, leaving a rather long loop between. She puts the wood in a bundle on her
back, and the rope comes over her shoulders and across her chest, or else just
across her forehead.

A man could use this rope if he wanted to — to hobble horses for instance.
But the rope is put where the woman can get it any time to carry wood. The
man uses it only if he needs a rope in a hurry.

The woman must keep on hand a plentiful supply of water for
drinking, cooking, and washing. She brings it from a near-by
spring or stream in a pitch-covered basketry jar.

Tanning and the use of hides. — "Tanning the hide is always
considered woman's work. Men never do it." In the mythology,
when Woodpecker wishes to deceive Coyote and make him think
he is a girl, he scrapes a hide after the fashion of women. Yet
certain realistic concessions are made. "Sometimes a man helps
if it is a hard job, a big hide; he helps stretch it because it takes
great strength."

The fresh pelt is treated in this manner:

First the woman who is doing the tanning scrapes off the flesh with a sharp-
ened deer bone or a sharp-edged stone. (At present she uses a scraper with a
toothed metal blade.) Then she soaks the hide in water for two or three days —
not too long or it will spoil. To soak the skin, she uses a basin formed of some
stiff hide. Then she takes the skin out of the water and wraps it around a pole.
She leans this pole against a tree so that the hide will not pull away. Then she
scrapes downward with a sharpened horse rib and takes the hair off. She uses a
rib near the neck because it is wider there.

When all the hair has been removed, she puts some grass on the ground and
lays the skin on top of this grass with the inner side facing upward. She pegs it
out here in the sun to dry for two or three days. If it is lumpy or too thick in
places, she works it over with a rough stone to even it up and to soften it at those
places.

The process of transforming the scraped hide into buckskin
has been thus described:

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 377

To turn it from rawhide to buckskin, the woman uses deer brains. She boils
the brain just a little, just steams it, and then works it with her hands. As she
works it, she puts warm water with it. Then she puts the hide in and works it
until it gets soft. She takes it out and hangs it in the sun to dry a little. Then
she wrings it out and starts to pull and stretch it.

She holds one end of it on the ground and stretches it by pulling at the other
end. She works it all over and on both sides as it dries. If she starts early in the
morning, she gets through about noon with this stretching. Once in a while she
stops and lets it dry some more. By the time she is finished, it has turned to
buckskin. Deerskin, antelope skin, and elkskin are treated in the same way.

Some women apply deer brains and fat directly to the hide be-
fore it is soaked in the water.

In cold weather when the tanned skin is not needed at once,
the hide may be rolled up and put aside pending a milder season:

The skin should be made soft in summer. If it is worked in cold weather, you
have to keep going and can't stop at any point until it is all finished, or it will not
be a smooth job and will show where you started in again. In warm weather,
though, it doesn't matter when you work on it. You can just pick it up any time
and do as much as you want to on it and then lay it aside and pick it up again.

When thick rawhide is wanted, the method differs:

To get hide for moccasin soles, the woman begins just the same way as she
does in making buckskin. She takes the hair off in the same way. But then she
just lets the hide dry and uses it. Since it is for moccasin soles, she wants it thick,
so she does not stretch it out with pins. If she wants to tan it, she will stretch it
out; then it gets thin.

It often becomes necessary to re-work buckskin:

When you once turn hide to buckskin, you want to be very careful how you
handle it. If you get it wet in one place, it's going to be hard there all the time.
Then it has to be softened with a rough rock. After a rain, women will take buck-
skin moccasins or clothes, dry them, and then work them over with a rock. But
the buckskin never gets as good as it was before.

If the rawhide bottoms of a pair of big overlapping moccasins wear out, they
take off the soles. The uppers are sure to be dirty and hard near the soles. They
may be torn where they were sewed. Then they take the moccasins and bury this
hard part in damp ground. They sprinkle a little water on top of the ground, just
enough to keep it damp. They leave the buckskin in the ground for a half-day
or a little more. Then it is damp and soft and can be worked. They do this so
that they will be able to stretch it and work it to fit the new bottom. I have seen
this done many times.

378 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When a skin is to be used as a robe or a blanket, still another
procedure is followed:

When a hide is to be used for a blanket, the hair is left on. Deer and moun-
tain sheep pelts are prepared like this. The inner side is fleshed carefully and
pounded to soften it. Deer brains are rubbed on this inner side, and the blanket
is worked until it is soft.

When they have those skins with hair on for blankets, they use them any way
according to the weather. In cold weather they put the fur side inside.

Making saddle bags is also one of the woman's tasks:

After the hide is removed, the woman stakes it out in the sun. Sometimes she
has grass under it, sometimes not. The hair side is underneath. She leaves it
there until it is dry. Then she takes it and puts the hair side up. She has a sharp
tool with which to scrape off the hair. Then she fleshes it. After scraping it, she
rubs it with the brains to make it soft. She doesn't soak it in water at all. Now
she cleans, cuts, folds, and sews it. Then she cuts a slit in the middle and puts
dirt in on each side. When the hide is entirely dry, she takes the dirt out. A
bulge is left on each side where the dirt was. Then it is ready to be put on the
horse.

The parfleche or flat hide container is a recent acquisition, and
its use has not penetrated to all sections of the tribe. Southern
Chiricahua informants say that the parfleche was not made by
them, and some Central Chiricahua report that it was not found
in their group. One Central Chiricahua informant was much in-
censed, however, at the suggestion that the parfleche he de-
scribed might have been inspired by Mescalero examples:

The Chiricahua had the parfleche, as I have told you. In fact, it originated
with the Chiricahua. These Mescalero never went around or found out any-
thing! They stayed right here year after year. They got the parfleche from the
Chiricahua. I was with the Chiricahua when they were going from Fort Apache
to Florida [1886]. Some of them had parfleches then. I saw parfleches in my own
home.

The Central Chiricahua parfleche is very simply made. The
fact that cowhide seems to be the only material used in its manu-
facture points to its recent adoption:

In the old days we had parfleches. The woman made them, and it is hard
work to make one. She has to scrape off the flesh from the inside of the skin and
scrape a little of the fur off the top. She has to work around and around, and
pound and pound it until she gets it the way she wants it. First she pounds it all

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 379

over, or it will be too thick. Then she pounds it more where she is going to fold
it.

She cuts it the size and shape she wants, so that when she folds it over it will
come out even. It is made by folding the cowhide over. You fold it over once,
and then again, and then from the ends. The end pieces go on top usually. Some
fold the ends in first and then fold the sides. There is no one way of doing it.
Next the woman cuts out a cowhide rope and ties it, first the long way and then
the short way. That's all there is to it.

You can store things away in it and keep it in a cave, or you can carry it on
your pack horse. Bushes and rocks won't hurt it. Rain won't hurt it, because it
is made out of cowhide. I've seen some with fur on and some without fur. The
Central Chiricahua never put designs on the parfleches. They have them all
sizes. I never saw any that were not made of cowhide and never heard of any
that were made of anything else.

The Eastern Chiricahua lavish more care upon the manufac-
ture of the parfleche. Two side pieces are made to fit over the
bottom, and then the two end pieces are brought over and laced.
All the fur is taken off, and designs, "as on the bow," are painted
on the outer surface. One informant stated that men cannot be
present when a woman is working on a parfleche, an interesting
example of the strong feeling for the sexual division of labor.

This feeling extends into the artistic field, and the character
of the decoration on painted or incised objects is determined by
the sex of the worker. "Men draw things, such as animals, peo-
ple, and freehand figures. Women do not. I would feel that it
was out of place for a woman to do this. She doesn't even paint
a star. She would just make certain patterns [conventional de-
signs]. She can do this at any time."

Other hide objects besides parfleches are made by the woman.
Awl cases and pollen bags are fashioned from buckskin. Bags to
hold piiion nuts and acorns are made of badger skins. These are
hung in the home, as much for their beauty as for their utility.
The woman also cuts plate-shaped pieces of rawhide to be used
"like the shallow woven bowl." In addition, she prepares "a
container of rawhide, having the shape of a burden basket, but
only half as large" to be used as a water carrier.

The quiver and the bow cover are so intimately associated
with masculine activities that it is considered essential for a man
to have some part in making them. The woman prepares the

380 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

skin, the man cuts out the pieces to be used, and the woman
sews them together.

The women color buckskin with a number of dyes of their own
making. Dark brown is obtained from the juice of fresh walnut
hulls, crushed and pressed. The buckskin is soaked in a mixture
of the walnut-hull juice and water and is then re-worked to soft-
ness. Red is secured from the boiled root and bark of mountain
mahogany. When this dye is lukewarm or cool, the buckskin is
put in it and is left overnight or for a day; later it must be re-
worked with a stone until it is pliable. A yellow decoction is
made by soaking algerita roots. The buckskin is left in the dye
until it is yellow and is afterward pounded and softened. Yellow
ocher is sometimes applied to the entire surface of a buckskin; as
the color wears away, more ocher must be rubbed on.

Sewing is essentially the concern of the women, though men
on the raid will do repair work. For thread, the woman needs
sinew. Therefore the hunter, when he butchers an animal, al-
ways removes the sinew from the loin very carefully and presents
it to his wife. Sinew from any large game animal is acceptable,
though that from the deer is considered best. In recent times
sinew from the horse and the steer have come to be widely used.
With an awl made from the sharpened leg bone o^ the deer, the
woman punches a hole in the skin she is sewing, moistens the end
of the sinew, and runs it through the hole.

Basketry. — Basket-making is one of the many tasks for which
the woman supplies both the materials and the labor, and she
possesses a large fund of knowledge concerning substances and
techniques. She rarely uses cottonwood, since it breaks too
easily. She does not use willow unless no other materials are
available. She knows that, if she gathers stems in the spring, she
will have to let them dry for some days but that, if she takes
them in the winter, they are dry enough to use almost at once.

The woman makes a coiled tray basket with sumac stems for
the foundation and yucca leaves for the sewing material and de-
signs it with yucca .of various colors:

To turn the yucca yellow, put dry grass among the leaves in the yucca plant
while it is standing in the ground; then set fire to the grass. The fire and smoke

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 381

turn the leaves yellow. Then cut what you want. When you want the leaves
green, cut those on the outside fresh and use them just as they are. The inner
leaves of the yucca plant, the ones near the stem, are white, and they can be used
to give still another color.

The ruddy tendrils found at the roots of the narrow-leafed
yucca are worked into baskets for contrast and design. The out-
er covering of the seed pod of the unicorn plant provides a black
substance. The sewing materials for the ceremonial tray basket
used in the girl's puberty rite come from these pods.

Tray baskets act as containers for dry foods and "for any little
thing, like nuts." They are used in parching seeds, in winnowing,
and in a variety of other ways.

The large burden basket is twined, and the withes em-
ployed are from the sumac or mulberry. The designs are sel-
dom more than bands of color woven with strands that have
been soaked in dyes similar to those used to color buckskin.
Often the bottom is covered with buckskin or rawhide from
which fringe and pendants hang.

The water jar is in reality a pitch-covered basket. It also is
made by the twined technique and is usually of sumac, or less
frequently of mulberry. A hide or wooden handle is affixed to
each side. Jars for tiswin are usually larger than those for carry-
ing or holding water:

In the making of the water jar, the woman does it all from the beginning. She
makes a woven basket. Then she gathers pitch. The only pitch used is that from
the pinon tree. If it is in a hard lump on the trunk, she breaks it off; if it is sticky,
she uses a piece of wood. She places it in a basket and brings it home, first laying
some kind of grass or leaves in the basket so that the pitch won't stick to it. She
puts the pitch in a pot and heats it until it gets soft.

When the pitch is soft enough, she pours or transfers it to the inside of the
water jar she is making. She has a heated stone in there too and moves the
basket around, so that the pitch spreads evenly. While she is putting on the
pitch, she doesn't allow any other person near the fire. She must be there by
herself. But, when she is weaving the basket, others can be around.

Sometimes she puts pitch on the outside, sometimes not. To put pitch on the
outside, she has a stick with a piece of buckskin on. She dips this into the hot
pitch and rubs it on. Then she lets it cool for a while; but, when it is still a little
warm, she dips her hand into water and smoothes the jar to make it look nice.
Sometimes before putting the pitch on the outside, she rubs the surface with red
ocher. It looks pretty then, because the red shows through the pitch. A woman

382 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

can carry a water jar the same day it is finished. When the pitch has cracked and
the jar leaks, she repairs it by putting hot stones in it. Then it comes together
again. We use oak leaves or good clean grass to cover the opening. The oak
leaves give a good taste to the water if they are used as a cover, we think.

Pottery and household utensils. — I have not been able to find a
single existing example of the ceramics of these people. But
women did mold pots at one time. The methods employed by
his relative are reported by one informant:

My aunt used to make clay pots. She got red clay, a sticky kind, and ground
it between two rocks, ground it fine. She had water at her side and kept putting
her hand in to make the clay sticky. She worked the clay. She said she had to
grind the clay fine or it would break.

First she made the bottom. She made a ball and pressed it down flat. Then
she'd take a pinch of it and roll it out to a long piece and put her hand in the
water to make it smooth. She built it up by putting these pieces on, bringing
them around the way the sun goes. She rested the pot she was making right by
her side on the ground. She smoothed it as she built it, sometimes with her hand
dipped in water and sometimes with a flat paddle that she dipped in water.
Sometimes she rested the pot she was making right in her lap, sometimes on the
ground by her side. Sometimes she made big ones, sometimes little ones.

Then she broke open the little round cactus that grows in clusters [nipple
cactus] and rubbed a piece of it on the outside and the inside of the pot. This is
sticky. Then she put the pot out in the sun to dry. If the sun was out, it would
dry enough to handle and be put in the fire in two or three hours.

Then she built a fire. She used any wood and let it burn down to ashes. Then
she put the pot in and kept turning it. She would strike it to see if it was done.
She turned it so it got done evenly. The pots were dark brown when they were
finished, but some clays made them lighter.

Sometimes she made several at once, of different sizes. She never painted or
designed them. Not many women made them. In the big group in which I lived
my aunt and two others made them. These women who made pots allowed men
to watch while they worked.13 They never ground up the old pots and put the
old material with the new. I saw these women make olla-shaped pots, low bowl-
shaped ones, and some that were like a pitcher. My aunt never painted or de-
signed any of them.

Another account adds some interesting details:

Women were the pottery-makers. They went to a place where the animals
would come to lick the salt and took clay from there. They rolled this clay with
their hands into a long rope and wound this up, coiling it around and around in

13 This was denied by another informant, who said that men could not be
present when women were working on the parfleche or the pot.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 383

the shape of a pot. When the pot was built up, they usually smoothed it, inside
and out, by rubbing water over the surfaces.

For the baking, oak was burned to red-hot coals, a pit was dug in these coals,
and the pot was placed in the pit and covered completely with coals. It was left
so overnight. In the morning the pot would be brittle and would make a sound
when tapped.

Over such a pot buckskin would be stretched and tied with sinews for a drum.
Such pots were also used to boil things in. The pots were never decorated. When
people haven't anything of importance to do, pots are decorated. Very often,
however, the coil marks were left on the outside.

Another account indicates that some women, at least, deco-
rated their handiwork:

Women make the pots. The pots are used for cooking and also for pottery
drums. A special one is made for a drum, but its general shape is like that of the
cooking pot.

This is the way a woman makes a pot. First she gets clay and sifts it until it is
fine. Then she mixes it with water. She works it to the right consistency. Next
she rolls some between her fingers and makes a coil. For the bottom she smooths
off a flat piece of clay with a rock. She builds the pot up from this with the coils.
She works on a level place on the ground. She takes a smooth stick or stone and
smooths off the inside and outside as she works. She adds water to the clay when
she needs it to make it softer.

Then she builds a fire. Any kind of wood is used for the fire. She places the
pot in the fire and keeps turning it. When it gets red in the fire, when it is dried
out, she takes it off, for it is ready then. Pots as big as two feet high and over one
foot in diameter were made.

Some have designs on them. This is done with a stick when the pots are still
wet [incising]. Some that I saw had three bands of wavy lines marked along their
sides.

Nothing is added to the clay, but to give it a shine the juice of the prickly-
pear cactus leaf or that of some gummy and prickly plant is squeezed into water
and applied to the pot before it is fired.

The women made pots, drums, cups, and plates of clay. Cups, too, were built
up with the coil. They had these cups when I was little and before. The Chirica-
hua had pottery from the time when animals were people. They got it from
Coyote.14

Some women were recognized as the best pottery-makers and were expected
to supply pots for others. They traded them for buckskin, meat, and other

14 No Chiricahua Coyote tale was recorded that would justify this statement.
However Coyote is credited with obtaining fire, bow wood, and arrow wood for
the people, and, by extension, the origin of pottery may be attributed to his
efforts.

384 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

things. They agreed on some reasonable settlement. Some unmarried women
got along this way. Men did not assist in pottery-making.

According to another recital, a vegetal binder was actually
mixed with the clay in some instances:

Get red or dark clay and grind it on a metate. See that no pebbles or sticks
are in it. Then get a low-growing cactus plant. Split it and boil down some of it.
Get the juice from it, mix it with the clay, and work it until it gets to the right
consistency. Just work the bottom from a lump and then build the side out of
coils. The inside is smoothed out with the hands. The outside is smoothed with
the hands too but is finished with a bone. Handles are sometimes put on the
sides.

Pots are sometimes designed. They are not painted but are incised with the
fingernail. One design is a series of circles connected by a line. Another is a band
across the pot with vertical lines on it. Sometimes they put a saw- toothed design
on. They also make a clay water jug with lines running around it.

When it is the right shape, they leave the pot in the sun to dry. Often this
takes several days. They strike it with a stick to hear whether it makes the
proper sound. Then they know it is ready to fire. They build a fire. When it has
burned down some, they put logs over it. They put the pots on the logs and keep
them there for about an hour and then turn them.

Different shapes are made. There is a tall cooking pot. After it is used for a
while it turns black. You can boil things in it. It is never decorated at all. The
shallow ones are used for drinking, and some shallow ones are made large enough
for food containers or frying pans.

In addition to the vessels already described, the woman makes
dippers, spoons, and various receptacles of gourds, wood, and
leaves :

From Old Mexico we get gourds for carrying water. We use them as dishes
too, and you can drink from them. But you can't use them for cooking. The
little gourds from the United States are too small and are not strong enough for
use.

The bole from the oak tree is hollowed out and used for a vessel or dipper.
We use the growths from the walnut tree too, or from any tree that has them.
I've seen my aunt use them many a time. For a spoon we make a hollow at the
end of a stick. Broad yucca leaves are used for spoons too.

To grind seeds and to pulverize foods that are to be preserved,
the woman uses a mano and metate:

Not many women make grinding-stones. They find some which have been
left by a people called "the ancient people." These were not Chiricahua, accord-
ing to the story. They lived in Old Mexico in cliffs and stone houses. We also
call them "those who live on top" and "[square] house people." These metates

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 385

are too heavy to carry along. But we take the mano which is ready made and
carry it along often. Then the woman uses it on a flat rock or one with a shallow
depression.

Some metates are fashioned by the women for themselves, how-
ever:

These metates are about two feet long and one foot wide. They have a little
depression which the woman makes by pecking it out with another stone and
then rubbing it smooth. A woman has just one grinder on which she grinds the
same food several times if she wants to make it finer.

Some women carry these all the time. It all depends on how often we move
and how far we are going. The mano used with this grindstone is about six or
eight inches long, just long enough so that a woman can work with two hands.
Chiricahua women kneel when grinding. We have no grinding songs.

A pounder of animal bone, or one of a stone selected because
its shape conveniently fits the hand, is another utensil with which
the woman equips herself.

Housebuilding. — The woman not only makes the furnishings
of the home but is responsible for the construction, maintenance,
and repair of the dwelling itself and for the arrangement of every-
thing in it. She provides the grass and brush beds and replaces
them when they become too old and dry. With a stiff grass broom
or with a leafy branch, she sweeps out the interior if that is neces-
sary. However, formerly "they had no permanent homes, so
they didn't bother with cleaning."

The dome-shaped dwelling or wickiup, the usual house type
for all the Chiricahua bands, has already been described.15 But
a "peaked" home of brush, roughly resembling a conical Plains
tepee in shape is also made. Said a Central Chiricahua inform-
ant:

Both the tepee and the oval-shaped house were used when I was a boy. The
oval hut was covered with hide and was the best house. The more well-to-do had
this kind. The tepee type was just made of brush. It had a place for a fire in the
center. It was just thrown together.

Both types were common even before my time. For the girl's puberty rite the
tepee type was used. Ten or more poles are used in the tepee. The number de-
pends on the person who makes it. It is woman's work to do it, though some-
times the men would help a little.

15 See pp. 22-23.

386 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

A house form that departs from the more common dome-
shaped variety is recorded for the Southern Chiricahua as well:

A house with sides that go up to a point has been used as far back as I can
remember. When we settled down, we used the wickiup; when we were moving
around a great deal, we used this other kind. No certain number of poles was
used for this type. The poles were never carried along. For the girl's puberty-
rite my people used the tepee. I can remember this was used back when I was
eight or nine years old.

This alternate house type with slanting sides was a hastily
constructed and very temporary dwelling among the Central and
Southern Chiricahua and is hardly comparable to the permanent
home of the Plains Indians. Among the- Eastern Chiricahua,
however, the tepee was more common and was better made,
though it never became the favored form:

A few of the Eastern Chiricahua had a tepee like that of the Mescalero. Some-
times it was made with a three-pole base and sometimes with a four-pole base.
The three-pole base was more common. In my day it was cloth covered, but the
old people talk of them and say that, before the whites and the Spanish were
here, hides were used. But most of the people of my group used the round house.

The Eastern Chiricahua didn't drag the poles of the tepee when they moved.
They put them on the front of the saddle, as many as they could carry, and then
went back for the rest. Usually they just discarded them though. They could
always make new ones.

In addition to these regular house forms, both men and wom-
en, when they were away from home, made windbreaks by
"crossing some sticks and throwing brush and leaves against
them."

HOME INDUSTRIES OF MEN

Weapons and tools. — Foremost among the man's tasks when
he is at home are the making and the repairing of weapons.

The favorite wood for the bow is from the mulberry tree.
Oak, locust, and New Mexico maple are also acceptable. The
self-bow is the only type made. It is usually three to four feet
long, "the length of two arrows."16 Almost always it has a single
curve, though double-curved bows are made occasionally.

16 These would be the "short" or hardwood shafted arrows. For arrow lengths
see p. 390.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 387

After the craftsman has cut a branch, split it, and shaped and
smoothed the wood, he lets it season. When it is dried to his lik-
ing, he "greases the wood and pulls it in every way until it is
slick and shiny." The wood is bent over the knee or over a tree
and tied. Then it is put in hot ashes and watched so that it will
not burn. After it cools it keeps its shape. The bow wood is kept
tied and allowed to dry for over ten days after this treatment
with heat. When the double-curved bow is made, the heated
bow wood is bent between two young trees growing close to-
gether.

The outer surface is usually painted a solid color; on the inner
surface the maker puts a design by which his handiwork is known
— a star, a cross, serrated lines, parallel lines, or a naturalistic
figure. This may refer to his supernatural power or may be sim-
ply a decoration or an identification mark. The dyes used are
vegetable or mineral substances made permanent by mixture
with juice squeezed from heated yucca leaves. Though the bow
is never backed longitudinally with lengths of sinew, it is often
wrapped with sinew. Usually, however, this is not applied until
the bow has been weakened by use. Horse hair is used, but less
frequently, as the reinforcing agent.

When the bow is to be sinew wrapped, animal hooves and
horns are boiled for two days, and the glue thus obtained is
rubbed on the wood at the places where the sinew will cover it.
Then the moistened sinew is wound around the bow, usually at
the middle and at places on each side equidistant from the cen-
ter. Glue is rubbed on the outer surface of the wrapping too, and
the bow is left to dry. Occasionally, piiion pitch is substituted
for glue. "The pitch is put on the sinew warm, and the bow is
worked and bent back and forth to spread the pitch and work it
in."

Sinew from the loin or the leg of the deer is saved for the bow
string. The man soaks the sinew in water, separates it into
strands, and rolls three of them together on his leg to form a
string. The warrior or raider will have an extra string with him
in case the one on his bow should snap. One informant claimed
that the tough fiber from the mescal leaf, rolled on the thigh and

388 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

carefully tied, makes a bow string that serves well in emergencies

and is even regularly used by some.

To release the arrow, the archer holds the string between his

thumb and first finger and assists with his second finger. When

the bow is not in use, it is left unstrung. In the hands of a strong

man this weapon is quite effective.

[My uncle] made powerful bows. At one hundred yards he could kill a deer
instantly. At fifteen yards he could send an arrow through a deer.

A good shot would be one that would send the arrow about a hundred yards
with accuracy. The bow worked as fast as the gun in the old days. Formerly,
before someone could load the magazine of a gun, you could shoot three arrows
from the bow.

For hunting birds and killing pack rats, men fashion smaller
bows of the same general construction. Boys who are learning
how to use weapons are given these smaller bows.

In any important undertaking a man carries from thirty to
forty arrows, and he likes to keep a reserve supply at home.
Much time and care, therefore, go into their making and repair.
An entire month may be spent on a full set of arrows. The arrows
are of two kinds: those of carrizo or reed into which a hardwood
foreshaft is fitted and those with the entire shaft of hardwood.
For the latter, Apache plume, mulberry, mountain mahogany,
or Fendlera rupicola is chosen.

When the man gathers arrow wood, he cuts it into appropriate
lengths, peels off the bark, scrapes it, and allows it to dry from
three to five days. The shaft is straightened between the teeth or
is pressed against a heated rock and then is decorated with bands
or stripes of black, blue, or red paint. On the upper portion of
the shaft, at about the middle of the area which will be covered
by the feathers, a narrow band of green or red is often traced.

Tail or wing feathers of the red-tailed hawk, the eagle, the
buzzard, or the turkey are next affixed to the butt of the shaft.
Turkey feathers, however, "can't stand rough treatment and are
used mostly for the arrows used in practice or for boys' arrows."
Each feather is split in half and trimmed, and the white sub-
stance is scraped from the quill. Three feathers are used, five- or
six-inch lengths being arranged equidistant from each other and

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 389

bound on the shaft with wet sinew. Sometimes a little pinon
pitch is applied to the shaft at the point where the sinew will
cross.

One feather is put on at a time, and the tops of the feathers are
affixed to the shaft first. The first feather is held in place, and
the sinew is wound around its top and the shaft once. The second
feather is put in position and secured at the top with one strand
of sinew also. Now the third feather is put in place, and the
sinew is wound around it and the shaft many times. Then the
arrow is put aside that the sinew may dry and tighten. When the
craftsman is ready to resume work, he fastens the bottoms of the
feathers to the shaft with sinew.

Flint arrowheads are used when they can be found. There is
very little chipping of arrowheads. A single informant speaks of
pounding slate and using the most likely pieces for arrowheads.
Another, an Eastern Chiricahua, tells of seeing "flints used as
arrowheads and one rock used to shape and chip another" during
his youth. But the majority of commentators agree that their
tribesman made no consistent attempt to manufacture flint
arrowheads:

The pieces of flint are found already shaped. The legend goes that the ani-
mals and the birds made them and used them in the fight against each other for
daylight.

The Chiricahua did not make stone arrowheads and beads. They found them.
There were many of them in their country. They can be found in anthills there,
the hills of the red ants. White shell beads are found there too.

The arrowheads we have are found. They are said to have been made by a

people who lived here before the Apache These people are called the

"ancient people" [Pueblo]. I don't think these people were here even in the
memory of the old men. It must have been before that.

Fine long blades and points found throughout the tribal range
are also considered by some to be arrows of the Thunder People.
When flints are to be affixed, the shaft is split, the arrowhead
is inserted, and the shaft is tightly wrapped with moistened
sinew. More commonly, however, no flint is used; the wooden
tip of the arrow is simply sharpened and fire hardened. Often the
arrow is fluted. With a sharp stone, the arrow-maker scratches

39Q AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

three channels along the shaft in line with the feathers or makes a
spiral groove upon it. Zigzag incisings, one on either side of the
arrow, occasionally are etched instead "because the arrows of
Child of the Water, when he fought the giant, were like that."

The respective merits of the two basic arrow types were dis-
cussed as follows:

Some arrows are made short, some are made a little heavy, and some are
made light. My father says that in order to shoot a long way you should take a
short arrow. For short distances he uses the long arrow with a shaft of carrizo. I
think an arrow made with a wood shaft is better than a reed [carrizo] arrow. Of
course, those reed arrows are good for shooting birds and for other light shooting.

If the shaft is of reed, the arrow has a hard wood point. In the old days they
were tipped with any wood hard enough to go into the animal, but I never knew
men to put on a stone arrowpoint. Instead they seasoned their arrows until they
were very hard. Many times I have seen my father sitting over a charcoal fire
heating the end of an arrow until it was just as hard as steel. He'd look at it and
sharpen it. I have never seen them chip stones for arrows.

When the shaft is to be of reed:

The man goes to the streams and gets some reeds before they grow too tall.
He cuts them green and fresh. They become hard as they dry. He straightens
them between his teeth and lets them dry for about two weeks. Then he puts the
hard foreshaft in, fastening it with pifion pitch and binding it with wet sinew. It
gets tight when dry. About two inches or a little more of the foreshaft goes into
the reed, and about the same amount is left sticking out.

The carrizo arrow is usually about thirty inches long; the type
with the shaft entirely of hard wood is a few inches shorter. The
length and stoutness of the bow are adapted to the size and
strength of the man, and the arrow must be of the proper size so
that "it is not too short when the string is pulled back."

In addition to the methods of straightening arrows which have
been mentioned, the use of discarded potsherds for the purpose
has been described: "Take a reed arrow and get it hot. Put
grease on and rub it with a piece of discarded pottery which has
been heated too. This straightens it. I used to do it in Arizona."

On the child's arrow or on the arrow used for hunting birds and
small game, one long feather may be wound spirally around the
shaft for a distance of approximately eight inches. Often such ar-
rows are left without any feathers at all.

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PLATE XIV

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■.■■■ ■ .:.'■■■

Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation

a) Fire Drill, Hide-Scraper, and Knife Sheath

United States National Museum

b) Saddle Bag

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 391

A man must not only be able to make arrows but to use them
effectively. In times of peace he keeps in practice by frequent
competitions with his fellows. "If a man is expert, he can shoot
one arrow, then shoot two more into the air before the first one
comes down." Significant personal differences are found in the
ability to make and handle bows and arrows. Some men are ac-
claimed as experts; others are credited with fair performance;
while still others are rated decidedly below average.

The quiver and the bow cover are usually made at the same
time and of the same material; they are always attached and are
both called by the same term, literally "arrow container." Moun-
tain lion skin is the favorite material for the quiver because it is
thought that "it makes a man lucky." The fur and the tail are
left on, and the finished product is called "quiver with tail."
Deer, antelope, otter, and wildcat pelts, with the fur either
scraped off or left on, are also used for quivers. Recently hides of
cattle and horses have been used, usually without the fur. One
informant asserted that the skin of a fetal calf makes a good
quiver.

The man cuts a wristguard out of rawhide for himself. This
laces up the back of the left wrist and has a projecting piece
which protects his hand against the impact of the bowstring.

For a spear a man selects a sotol stalk or a young spruce,
scrapes and dries the wood, and sharpens and fire-hardens the
tip. Such spears are about seven feet long. The shaft is usually
painted in one or more colors, and two eagle feathers are at-
tached near the point. After contact with Europeans, metal
knives and bayonets were inserted to make a still more deadly
weapon. In battle the spear is never hurled, and it is used by the
warrior only when he is on foot.

The round hide shield is connected as much with ceremonial-
ism as with actual defense. It, too, may be a recent acquisition:

Just those with power have them. The man with power prepares these hides
himself. He uses the hide from the shoulder region of the animal. He makes it
just big enough to protect his chest and face.

First he takes the hide off. Then he scrapes all the flesh from it. He does this
with a knife, a steel knife. (They made this shield only from the time they had

392 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

steel knives and not before.) Then he rakes together sand and builds a fire on it.
When the sand is thoroughly heated, he rakes the coals away and pegs the hide
down over that place. Then he scrapes the fur from the outside and pegs it down
again in another place that has been heated first. Now he takes it up and cuts
the hide to the size he wants his shield to be. He makes two holes and ties on a
handle big enough to grasp. Sometimes he has another handle so that his arm can
be fitted in too. Some men design their shields with sun symbols or other things
and paint them various colors.

Many shields are without buckskin covers and have the design
painted on the rawhide. One of these which I collected is painted
with yellow ocher and has a black morning-star design. More
elaborate and Plains-like shields are not unknown, however.

Some shields are covered tightly with buckskin; the designs are painted on the
buckskin. The buckskin is sewed onto the hide. Holes are driven through the
hide for the purpose of fastening the cover on. There are tail and inner wing
feathers of the eagle around the edge, and there are two more eagle feathers in the
center. The eagle feathers mean that the maker has power. Just a few men had
shields.

To give a shield marked convexity, a wet hide is pressed into
a shallow hole in the ground and left to dry there. Buffalo hide
is said to have been the material liked best in former times, but the
supply obtainable must have been very small. Almost all the
shields which informants had made or had seen made were of
cowhide.

The warrior may prepare another weapon, the war club. A
round stone, the size of a man's fist, is covered with rawhide and
connected by a short length of flexible rawhide to a wooden han-
dle. The handle is often covered with buckskin. A loop is pro-
vided at the end of the handle for the hand. A horse tail or, after
the introduction of cattle, a cow's tail is often attached to the
end of the handle too. Such clubs, or "stone carriers," are some-
times painted red or black, especially along the handle. While
they vary in length, the average specimen seems to be approxi-
mately twenty inches long from stone to handle end.

Less frequently another type of war club, really a hand ax, is
made. A grooved stone ax head (more often than not of ancient
Pueblo manufacture) is inserted into a handle which has been
split to receive it. Pitch has been applied to the inner surface of

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 393

the split, and the stone is held in place by sinew bindings on eith-
er side of it. Often an animal tail is attached to the end of the
handle. An ax of this type, without the tail or any decoration,
may serve around camp as a household tool.

The man makes for his own use a sling, a diamond-shaped
piece of rawhide, pounded a little and thus softened, with four
perforations through the median line of its width. A rawhide
string is attached to each side, one with a loop at the end and
the other without any. Because of the perforations, the sling can
be folded over a stone about two and a half inches long and one
inch thick. The loop is placed on the middle finger of the right
hand, and the free string is held between the thumb and first
finger. The sling is drawn back and whirled just once. As it
comes forward the unlooped string is released, hurling the stone.

There are slings of two sizes that the Chiricahua carry. One is for things close
by and is short. The other is a long one, for long-distance shooting. You can get
to be very accurate with a sling. You never whirl the sling around a lot, as the
stone might come out and hit someone. It just goes back once, and then you let
it go. You can hurl a stone a hundred and fifty yards with it. It can be used for
hunting birds or deer alike.

Finally, there is the stone knife, chipped with another stone.
"They used to chip off the hardest rock they could get and use it
for a knife." This knife may have a shoulder jutting from the
handle end so that it can be tied to the belt or waist, or it may be
carried in a rawhide sheath made by the woman.

A man makes a long rope from a piece of buckskin or rawhide
by cutting it in a continuous clockwise circle from the outer rim
to the center. To form an especially strong rope, he braids sev-
eral strands of rawhide together. Such a cord or one braided
from horse-tail hair makes a serviceable bridle. By shredding
yucca leaves and braiding the tough strands, he makes a durable
rope which also can be used for tying and hobbling horses or for
a bit and bridle.

"Anyone could build a fire. Whoever woke up first did it. A
woman can use the fire drill." Yet the fire drill is made by the
man and is employed by him most frequently:

394 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

We take a little stick of wood about eight or ten inches long. It has to be good
solid wood and dry. It might be juniper or sotol. It is shaved thin — to about the
thickness of a pencil. It does not come to a real point at the lower end but is
rather blunt there.

We have a flat piece of wood made of sotol stalk or yucca. It is thin. When it
is to be used for the hearth, it has to be about one and a half inches wide and
about eight to ten inches long. The one who is going to work the drill makes a
little hole or notch in which to put it at the start, so it won't slip around. This
little hole can be at the center or at the edge. If the drill goes right through the
hearth without a fire being made, the person can start a new notch.

We go to a juniper tree and get the bark, the dry bark, and get some dry grass
too. We keep these tied to the set and keep the whole thing dry. When using the
drill, we put the grass or shredded bark around the hole, and some of it in the
hole too. If we can't get a fire quickly, we put just a pinch of dirt or sand in the
hole. As a man twirls the drill between his hands, the smoke comes up. Some-
times the tinder blazes up. If it doesn't blaze but you see that you have a good
spark, you take the stick out of the hole, push the grass close together, and blow
on it until you get your fire.

All you need is two sticks and your tinder. These two sticks are wrapped to-
gether and carried around, for these are the matches of the Chiricahua, you
know. They are carried in a bag tied to the belt or in the quiver when the men
are on a journey. Dry manure is used to catch the spark sometimes. Some men
can get a fire in a very few turns, but some blister their hands trying to do it and
give it up.

The designation of sotal and yucca as male and female, re-
spectively— a concept which figures in the construction of the
cradle — is extended by some (but not by everyone) to the parts
of the fire drill:

The same distinction between the "he" and the "she" is made when talking
about the fire drill. The bottom part is supposed to be made out of the "she," the
yucca stalk [narrow-leafed yucca],1? and the top part, which is spun between the
hands, should be made out of sotol, the "he."

There are other ways of making and preserving fire. Sparks
from flints can be caught in dry pulverized pith of such plants as
the elderberry.18 The flints and the powder are often carried in a
buckskin bag, attached to the belt. In wet weather, when it may
be difficult to rekindle a fire, a slow fuse of shredded juniper bark
tied with yucca leaf strings proves useful:

J7 As the description above shows, this convention is not always respected.
18 Probably the use of flints and pyrites to make fire followed European contact.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 395

If it rained we had a slow-burning fuse that kept a fire going. And when it
burned to the end we lit another from it. Thus we kept a fire burning at a rainy
time. To play safe, we usually took these fuses along with us in case of emer-
gency, especially if it looked like rain.

Since the operation of the fire drill is considered hard work,
whenever there is a chance of getting fire by other means, these
are attempted first. It is not unusual, for instance, to send some
member of the household to a neighboring camp to borrow fire.
He "carries a hot coal between two sticks and runs back to his
camp. Mesquite wood will burn the longest when carried this
way."

Equipment for the horse. — There is a tendency to associate the
horse with the man and his affairs. Women obtain horses by
gift and in payment for services, particularly ceremonial services,
but the majority of the horses remain in the possession of the
men:

Caring for stock is man's work. Men round up the horses and cattle. When a
horse is to be loaded, the woman gets the pack ready, but the man does the load-
ing. Men make the saddles, and they saddle the horses for themselves and their
wives. The women know how to saddle horses, however, and can do it when
necessary. A woman might saddle a gentle horse. A widow has to saddle her own
horse.

It is the business of the man to furnish the equipment needed in
making use of the horse — the saddle, stirrups, bridle, bit, and
quirt.

The saddle, which is modeled after European examples, has a
Cottonwood framework. Tree forks are whittled down to form
the front and cantle. On the front a projection is left for the
horn. Two flat boards are lashed between these forks, one on
either side, to form the saddle skirts. Wet hide, often with the
fur left on, is stretched over this frame and laced into place. As
it dries, it contracts and fits securely. When metal tools came
into use, the pieces of the frame were joined still more solidly by
burning holes through the wood with a red-hot metal punch and
drawing rawhide laces through them.

The man also makes a pack saddle, little more than a pad or
frame of grass or hide bundles. He makes, too, rounded oak stir-

396 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

rups, a rope bit which is tied under the horse's mouth, and a
bridle with reins attached to the bit and tied together at the
end. The quirt, of braided rawhide, is a foot and a half or more
long and is fringed at the tip. The handle ends in a loop by
which it is suspended from the wrist or held. Yucca-rope hobbles
are made; they are tied to the saddle when not in use.

If the horse has a sore foot and goes lame, its owner makes a
rawhide pouch with a drawstring at the top and ties this over its
ailing hoof. Since these "horse moccasins" are always said to be
made of cowhide, perhaps their use is recent.

The horseman likes to have a mountain lion skin or some other
fine fur to throw over the saddle bag "to make it look nice. The
Mexican people did this, so the Chiricahua did it too."

The rider mounts from the left side of the horse, putting his
left foot in the stirrup and throwing his right leg over the horse's
back. If the horse is not in the habit of running away, the rider,
when he stops anywhere, throws the reins over its head to the
ground.

Rafts and boats. — When rivers or rain-swollen streams have to
be crossed "if there are just a couple of men on horseback, they
hang on to the manes of the horses, and let them swim with
them." But if groups of people must cross bodies of water, the
men make rafts:

When we were coming east and got to the Rio Grande and it was high, the
men took logs about twelve feet long or so and tied cross-pieces to them. It
makes a raft about three or four feet wide. They had a rope attached to it in
front. The best swimmers pulled it along. The rope was around their bodies, or
they pulled it with their teeth sometimes. Some good swimmers would be in back
to help push. One person would sit on the back to keep the front of it out of the
water. Others who couldn't swim or who couldn't swim well would hang on to
ropes along the sides. Possessions, sick people, or old people could be brought
across water in this way.

One Eastern Chiricahua informant described a bullboat which
the men make: "Sometimes when there are no big logs around,
they take a rawhide and put sticks crossways inside it. Then they
tie the ends up. In this way they make a boat and go across with
that."

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 397

OWNERSHIP OF GOODS, TRADE, AND GIFT-GIVING

Not all individuals display an equal willingness to engage in
every task that has been described. Shiftless persons have to
be exhorted to better efforts by their spouses, relatives, and
friends. Concerning a man whose laziness is proverbial, an in-
formant remarked: "I heard his wife begging him to get out and
work. She said, 'We're hungry. We haven't anything to eat.' I
never was lazy like that man."

The strong group loyalty of kin, and the feeling that food
should not be withheld from the hungry, save the family of the
unproductive individual from acute suffering. "They just live
poorer, that's all." And, since both the man and the woman
work, remissness on the part of one is often compensated for by
the redoubled efforts of the other. Here it is that the relatives of
the partner who is being imposed upon step in to prevent his
abuse. The kin of a woman whose husband is economically
worthless to them are likely to bring pressure upon her ending
either in more significant contributions from the man or in a
divorce. If the fault lies with the woman, the husband's rela-
tives remind him of the more satisfactory way in which he lived
before his marriage, and he feels that he has grounds for divorce.

Ordinarily, however, ridicule is enough to force the unenter-
prising into moderate conformity:

If there is a lazy man who doesn't work but lives off the others instead, they
give things to him all right, but at the same time they talk to him, telling him
that he's able-bodied and has a family and should help himself and hunt and take
care of himself. They scold him and shame him and try to make him change. A
man like that usually changes; there are lots of them. Many of them don't even
go to war, but prefer to stay at home with the women. Some make excuses and
act sick and do things like that so they won't have to work.

The products of an individual's industry, skill, and daring are,
in theory at least, his own. The dwelling and the domestic arti-
cles she has made belong to the woman. How she disposes of
baskets, water jars, and parfleches is strictly her business, and
her actions are seldom disputed by her husband. The only limi-
tation on her rights is that her own household be reasonably well
equipped. Likewise, those things which a man makes or obtains

398 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

are his own, and his wife may not dispose of them without his
permission. But if he recklessly gives away all the booty he has
earned in a successful raid and leaves his own family impover-
ished, he is subjected to stinging criticism at home and ridicule
outside.

Trade is more likely to be intertribal than intratribal. "The
women who didn't make their own pots got them in trade from
the Pueblos and from the N^vaho too. Those people came down
with peaches and pots and things on burros and traded them for
saddles and things we had." But some bartering does go on
among tribesmen. "If a man wants a certain blanket, he offers
something. If it is refused, he offers more until a deal is made."
When something is needed for ceremonial purposes, a particular
kind of feather, for instance, the one who has it is approached
and offered whatever is required to induce him to part with it.

That trade is not further developed has been attributed by
informants to the lack of emphasis on specialization of labor:

A good maker of bows cannot spend his time just making bows. Everyone
makes his own bows and takes care of his own property. A woman who is
widowed lives in a poorer condition; that's all. She does not get things she needs
by trading.19 There is not much specialization of labor. We were on the move
all the time. The Mexicans were always after us. A person didn't have the
chance to specialize on any kind of work and trade off the things he made.

Another barrier to great interest in trade is the solidarity of the
kin group and extended family in material matters. The ease
with which objects can be borrowed for legitimate purposes
makes less important their actual ownership and their acquisi-
tion by barter.

And yet, in various ways, goods do pass from person to per-
son. The wagering of property on games of chance, for instance,
makes for a great deal of circulation of possessions of all kinds.
Gambling is almost a major occupation for some individuals, and
persons of all ages and both sexes show a lively interest in it.
Much wealth changes hands, too, as a result of payment for cere-
monial services. Because so many persons are involved in the

19 But for evidence that pots were sometimes traded see pp. 383-84.

MAINTENANCE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 399

practice of ritual, the distribution that this fosters is constant
and equitable.

It is gift-giving that largely takes the place of trade, though
the difference is mostly one of phrasing. There is the feeling that
exchanges should depend upon an implicit reciprocity to be
worked out in individual relations rather than in terms of de-
clared measures of value. One speaks of "giving" instead of
"selling." But it is understood that generosity begets generosity
and that a man loses nothing by kindness to his neighbors. Thus
a father caps advice to his son with this admonition: "Do not be
stingy and mean. Treat people right. Give half of what you
have. Then you will be invited to feasts and get presents."

The openhanded individual builds up a fund of friends who
will serve him in good stead whenever he needs assistance, mate-
rial or moral. One informant told how a member of a certain
family gave gifts to his wife. "Now they are our friends" was his
comment. The implication is that some gesture on his part will
be forthcoming later, for this is an almost inevitable consequence
of friendship initiated in this way.

Reputation and social standing are significantly related to
generosity, and, even if the individual gains no more than added
prestige, he does not regret his philanthropy:

Gifts are given because we are sympathetic to one another. If someone needs
food, we help him in a material way, for we feel that we are one people. We feel
that way to a man who is poor. Giving is a great thing to the Chiricahua. A man
can make a great reputation by giving.

Acceptance of a gift is felt by the receiver as a claim upon him
to be adjusted in his own time and way:

You are ashamed to borrow a horse, a bow, or other things, for that shows
that you are not a real man and have not been on the raid and obtained things for
yourself. To start out, the young man would be given the necessities. Giving is a
great thing with us. I don't think there was much selling in the old days, but
there was always lots of giving.

Even now there is not much selling. I could walk up to any man and ask for a
horse. Even though I don't know him well I have a good chance of getting it.
I've been offered horses. C. offered me a horse, but I never took it. I didn't take
it because I did not want to feel under obligation to him. He just offered it to
show his friendship. This was done in the old days a great deal.

4oo AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Prestige, obligations to relatives, and the general tenet of
generosity perpetuate gift-giving even in situations where no re-
turn present is likely to be forthcoming. Nevertheless, these
gifts set up currents of reciprocity which stimulate the exchange
and circulationof property:

The Chiricahua's nature, the life of the old times that we have been telling
about, was free. We gave gifts to one another and didn't ask anything in return.
If a man liked you he would say, "I am going to give you a horse, or a ring" —
like that .... free. To give is considered a good trait, to give without asking
something in return.

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE

PERSONALITY ADJUSTMENT BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE

THE common term for mate, used reciprocally by hus-
band and wife is "companion," or, literally, "one with
whom I go about." Their joint concern in maintaining
a home, rearing children, and securing the necessary household
supplies requires close co-operation between them. Although
men receive greater deference in public and women are subordi-
nated to them in many ways, at home the feeling tone is usually
one of equality between husband and wife.

Occasionally, in spite of the fact that women are considered
more unstable than men, "easier to tempt," and more prone to
quarrel over trivial things, the wife may be the dominant figure
in an encampment. One extended family is continually referred
to by the name of the wife of the founding pair, though the hus-
band is living. In this case, the man is very retiring and so is
generally ignored. Of another man it was said, "Now he is a
slave to his present wife; she cusses him out anywhere."

That a wife is in touch with her kinsmen and has a haven
available gives her an assurance in dealing with her husband
which she might otherwise lack. If she is badly treated, she can
escape to her parents' dwelling, and they will permit her to stay
there. Then "the man has to beg for his wife from the outside,
and he may or may not get her back."

Still, parents are often unwilling to involve themselves in the
personal affairs of their married daughter unless the situation is
truly desperate. One father, though he complained of his son-in-
law's conduct, seemed in no mood to give his daughter help :

One time my daughter came in and began crying to me. She said, "That man
beat me again. I am not going back to him! I don't want to live with him any
more!" I told her, "I told you not to marry that man, but now that you have
done it, you had better go over there and take your medicine."

401

4o2 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

No less important in determining a wife's social and domestic
position is her economic usefulness. An industrious woman con-
tributes so significantly to the family resources that the indis-
pensable part she plays cannot be minimized by the men. More-
over, much of the wealth she creates belongs to her. Consequent-
ly, wives are well aware of their rights and do not accept abuse
supinely:

Not long ago this man started beating up his wife. She just took him and
rolled him under the bed. You know he is paralyzed on one side and is pretty
near helpless when you get him like that. It was a low bed, and he got stuck
there. He stayed there until another fellow came along and let him out. He was
there calling to his wife to get him out.

An amusing anecdote better illustrates the usual independence
of wives in their own homes:

Geronimo was very absent-minded. He would be looking for his hat and he
would have it on his head.

One time when we were over to visit him, he was making a bow with a big
knife. Pretty soon he began asking his wife where his knife was. All the time he
had it in his hand, but we didn't let on. So there he was, scolding his wife and
telling her to look for it for him. He was short and stout and pretty old by then,
so he wasn't active any more. That's why he wanted his wife to get it for him.
But she wouldn't look. She said, "You're old enough to look for your own
knife."

Geronimo got pretty angry. "Boys, you see how she is!" he said. "I advise
you not to get married." Finally he saw the knife in his hand. "Why, I'm noth-
ing but a fool!" he said.

Important in the stabilization of many marriages are the re-
spect and affection that grow through the years as a result of
shared experiences. An elderly informant told of the long period
of domestic happiness which he and his wife had enjoyed. Be-
sides being a loyal and helpful mate, she had saved his life. Once
when Mexican villagers were overhospitable to a group of Chiri-
cahua, she suspected duplicity and accepted none of the food and
drink offered. As she had feared, just as soon as her people were
properly befuddled, a massacre began. But she remained clear-
headed and managed to get her helpless husband to a hiding-
place. The moral force that this exceptional woman exercised
over her mate is generally recognized. More than once it was

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 403

said of him, "That man never gets into trouble; he has a good
wife." During my work with this man, his wife showed a lively
interest and often assisted with useful suggestions and details.
Not long afterward the man died, and she was truly a grief-
stricken figure.

Another informant, despite the pose of male indifference, paid
his wife a deserved compliment. Speaking of another woman
with whom he had once been friendly, he said, "That woman was
very pretty when I was a young man. I nearly married her, but
I did right to marry my wife. She is a good little woman and has
a good reputation."

At another time, when I inquired about a sound of wailing I
heard, thinking that someone must have been newly bereaved, I
was told, "No, that woman cries every once in a while like that
for her husband who died many years ago. She has never married
again."

One informant, irritated by insinuations that marriages among
his people were not stable or satisfactory before American inter-
ference, exclaimed: "Some people think that, because the Chiri-
cahua didn't have a license in the old days, their marriages were
no good. But a man couldn't leave a woman for nothing. The
Chiricahua had strict and high standards."

But no matter how satisfactory a marriage arrangement is,
husbands and wives, as far as external symbols are concerned,
are expected to take each other for granted and to demand no
small attentions or extra considerations:

A man does not kiss his wife or relatives. We don't show emotion like that.
Young people dance together before marriage and now some kiss before mar-
riage, but not after.

The Chiricahua woman does not resent it when her husband goes off without
saying goodbye or saying when he will be back, and there is no special greeting
for a wife even if the man has been away several days. Yet these married people
think just as much of one another as white people do. It's just their way of
acting.

SEXUAL ADJUSTMENT

In speaking of the sexual adjustment in marital life, inform-
ants have emphasized the role of individual differences:

4o4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

I was talking about this with my friend, H. At that time I was young. When
I saw a woman I'd have an erection. "What makes that?" I asked him. He said,
"I get that way too." But there was another fellow. We used to chum together.
You couldn't make him get an erection. You could have five naked women in
front of him and it wouldn't matter! It's all in the nature of the individual. I
have noticed that lots of fellows don't care for women, and lots are worse off than
I was. It's in the brain, in the nerves. It's like some who get to be cigarette
fiends when they smoke. It's just their nature to feed their bodies.

These two fellows and I were together. H. and I used to go down to Lawton
and go with girls. The other boy wouldn't do anything, though the girls were
after him. He never even danced. Yet he's married now. He has only one child,
a boy of about twenty.

In spite of the acknowledged individual differences, there is an
accepted ideal of moderation in sexual life :

The Chiricahua is not willing to show a lot of feeling for the other sex. That
is why our women are probably colder than women of other races. They would
consider it shameful to lose control of themselves during intercourse.1

Sexual intercourse two or three times a week is considered normal for married
people. In the old days even less than that, because men were away so much.
Yet some men are so bad about this that they get their wife with a second child
before the first one walks, and the oldest child does not get proper nourishment.

The young Indians tell me about intercourse with women of other peoples,
with Negroes, Mexicans, and whites, and they are surprised at the activity of
these women during intercourse. One fellow said, "Well, I went into a place to
have intercourse with a woman, but she had intercourse with me!" We say that
those who are too fond of this get old quickly, that a person ages rapidly if he is
just like a hog about it.

In an autobiographical statement, the same pattern of moder-
ation is pictured:

For the first three or four months I had intercourse every night with my wife;
after that about twice a week; later on, after the first year, once a week or less.
Now after eleven years of married life, when I'm home, about once a week. Once
a week won't hurt a man, I guess.

But prudery and continence in the married person are just as
heartily condemned and ridiculed as unbridled sensuality, as a
humorous story indicates:

1 Yet one informant expressed a contrary feeling concerning female sexuality,
saying, "I've always heard that women are twice as eager as men, never getting
enough of sexual intercourse."

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 405

They tell this story of a certain man. They say he was J.'s grandfather. He
married and when he and his wife went to bed the first night, he just turned away
from her. She didn't think much of it at first. Then he did the same thing the
second night. Every night she thought he was coming to her, but he turned the
other way instead. He did this for seventy-five nights, and then she left him.

BIRTH CONTROL, BARRENNESS, AND FERTILITY RITES

A childless marriage is considered a great misfortune, and
sterility is an accepted cause for divorce. Sterility in a woman is
sometimes attributed to a ceremony conducted over her in girl-
hood by envious or scheming adults.2 But often a disappointed
husband wonders whether his wife "has hired a man or woman
who knows herbs and a ceremony to make her sterile, so that she
won't be bothered by children:"

I have heard old people say that some women can perform a ceremony for
another woman, and she will have no children no matter how many men have
intercourse with her. Girls of about the age of puberty go through it, and older
women who have too many children go through it too. They have a medicine to
drink and a ceremony that goes with it that will prevent birth forever. Certain
people practice this ceremony. It has to be paid for like any other ceremony.

Various methods for the prevention of pregnancy have been
described. "Rock crystal is used as a medicine when a woman
does not want a child. The rock is ground up fine, and some of
the powder is put in a drink. There are prayers and a ceremony
connected with this, but I do not know them." A certain variety
of small prickly-pear cactus fruit, because it is rare and its fruits
are said not to ripen, is magically associated with these practices.

Food or behavior restrictions imposed as a part of such cere-
monies must be carefully observed. "If a woman is avoiding
pregnancy by keeping away from some food or drink, such as
honey, and breaks this fast, she will become pregnant." It is
noteworthy that honey should be specifically mentioned as one
of the foods prohibited if a woman wants no children, for bees-
wax is said to be "used ceremonially to cure sterility in women."

Because of the prevailing desire for children and the insecu-
rity of a childless woman, fecundity ceremonies are of much more
frequent occurrence. In one of these rites the practitioner cere-

3 See pp. 80-81.

4o6 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

monially feeds one egg (now a hen's egg) and the testicle of a
rabbit to her client each day- This is accompanied by the throw-
ing of pollen to the directions and appropriate prayers. Accord-
ing to the account, "she does this a few days, and then the wom-
an is with child."

A ceremony performed by an old woman resulted, one man
and his wife feel sure, in the birth of their only child:

My wife was eager to have children. She didn't do anything about it at first.
But four or five years after our marriage we had an old woman perform a cere-
mony over her. It was held at the camp of the old woman in the springtime of
the year, when everything comes to life. The ceremonial woman blew smoke to
the directions first. Then she used pollen. The ceremony was prayer mostly.
My wife had to eat some chicken eggs.

Childless marriages are sometimes attributed to male steril-
ity:

It's not only the rich blood [semen] of a man that causes him to have children.
Yusn has made it that way. When it's going to be that way, it's going to be that
way. I've heard some men say that, if Yusn doesn't want it to happen, you
won't get children.

Informants have cited cases of the divorce of childless couples,

after which the woman has remarried and borne children, while

the second union of the man is as unproductive as the first:

Sometimes each blames the other if there are no children; a woman sometimes
holds a man to blame for this and divorces him. Who is to blame is found out
soon enough, for they marry others and prove the truth.

Such instances provide proof that "some men are unable to give
children." The sterile man tries to overcome his misfortune. "A
man might get treatment [ceremonial] for sterility too."

JEALOUSY AND EXTRA-MARITAL RELATIONS

To judge from the number of instances which have been re-
ported, extra-marital affairs are not infrequent and usually lead
to tension between husband and wife. "Jealousy and consequent
quarreling are grounds for divorce. Jealousy is the foundation of
divorce. Women are more to blame than men; they nag more."
Despite this pronouncement, actual cases of jealousy seem to be
quite evenly divided between the sexes. Of one man it is said:

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 407

"He had his house built far from the other camps because he is
jealous. He has a young pretty wife and he doesn't want anyone
around." Undue precautions which ended in divorce are at-
tributed to another man. "N.'s first wife is married to another
man now. N. was abusing her all the time. He even took her
out hunting with him in winter when it was cold, he was so jeal-
ous of her, and he whipped her all the time." On one occasion a
young married man was called aside-by a woman. When he re-
turned, he explained:

That woman was telling me that her husband is jealous of her. This morning
I was going past the hospital and I saw her sitting on the steps. I said, "Hello,
what you are looking so angry about?" She didn't even answer, so I went on.
Her husband saw us there and is accusing her of fooling around with me, she says.

The women are no less critical of mates whom they suspect of
duplicity. One informant lamented, "My wife got jealous. I
could not stand it. I had nothing to do with other women, but
she was jealous." A man in danger of becoming involved in an
affair with a girl some years his junior soon found that his wife
was closely observing his progress:

About five years after I was married I got into a little flirtation with a girl I
had known when I was younger. She tried to attract my attention. She met me
at the store. She would talk a lot to me. It was kind of an adventure to me. She
was eight or nine years younger than I was.

My wife heard about it. This girl hinted around that she wanted me to go
farther with her. I could gather this from the way she talked. She would ask me
to see her at night. She would name a meeting place. I never met her. I kept a
cool head. If I hadn't, I would have been in serious trouble.

This went on for about a month, until my wife spoke to me about it. Once
when she got angry she told me what she knew. She asked me if I had met the
woman. I told her, "No." The next time I saw the girl I told her she was causing
trouble for me and to let me alone.

In explaining why a certain man declined an invitation to go

on a trip, my informant remarked:

His wife probably isn't sick, but she is pretty unreasonable about such things
and just doesn't want him to go. She is very jealous. He wants to be like most of
the other men and go out a great deal, but he has to stay home to keep peace in
the family. She imagines all sorts of things that are not true. He and his wife
live near her mother. Once his wife made things so miserable for him that he
left.

4o8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

A blue-green alga (Nostoc) is used to combat suspected un-
faithfulness:

It's found in the mountains, just on the ground. It's very scarce. It can be
used both ways— on a man or on a woman. If you think your wife is unfaithful,
you can make her smoke it with tobacco, and it will make her stop acting like
that. I've had it for about eight years. I keep it in a buckskin pouch. My wife
and I went and got it. We tried one day and couldn't find any. We went the
next day and got a little.

Love magic is used also to keep or to regain the interest of a
mate. A story is told of a man who stayed out on raids and war
expeditions so long that his wife felt abandoned. Her mother,
who "knew love charms," performed "a deer ceremony .... the
kind used to get deer in a certain position, to charm a deer so
that he will be at a place where you can get him easily." The
husband, who was far away, became lonesome for his wife. That
very day he started for home and, when he got there, begged his
wife "to take him back."

Affairs, especially for women, are probably more common
after marriage than before: "Unmarried girls are watched very
carefully; married women aren't guarded carefully by the com-
munity." In all traditional stories of unfaithfulness and per-
version the woman is described as the culprit.

An actual example of infidelity throws light on the behavior
of individuals in these domestic crises. A man hears that his
wife has become involved with a widower during his absence and
hurries home:

His intention was to kill both of them or one of them the night he got back.
He had a long knife. I heard this story the next morning. Somehow those two
got word that he was looking for them and hid; they were warned and ran out to
the mountains. The people wouldn't tell him where they went. He hunted for
them all night. He looked in all the homes the next day. I talked with him my-
self but couldn't cool him off.

Meanwhile a bunch of the leading men got together. They didn't want trou-
ble. They pleaded with him to let them go. Prominent men pleaded with him.
The evening before the feast I was with him. The leading men called him over to
a place near the feast grounds. They were all waiting for him. I walked over
with him. The woman and the man he was after were hidden in another tent.
The old men said, "Brother, nephew, we wish to talk with you." They called
him all kinds of relationship terms. "Cool down," they told him.

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 409

"The only way I'm going to cool down is if you bring those two people before
me, right here. I won't do anything to harm them now, but I want to talk with
them before you men."

They didn't say "Yes" right away. Instead these old men said, "Are you sure
you are just going to talk to them? We don't want trouble. We don't want you
to kill those people or to kill yourself."3 They had several minor arguments
about it until they felt sure he would behave himself.

The husband told them, "Bring them in if you have them close by. I want to
talk to them before you."

They brought the two in there. Men were sitting around. The woman came
in crying, scared. The man came in and sat down. The husband was sitting over
on the other side. He started to talk. "The pleading that these men have done
for you is the only thing that is saving you two. I would have killed you both, or
you would have killed me, if I had found you. If it wasn't for these men, I don't
know where you'd be."

Then he said to his wife, "Are you marrying that man for love?" She
wouldn't speak.

He spoke to the man. "Do you know what kind of a woman she is? She
fights like a man. She's a mean woman, I'm warning you. She'll give you plenty
of trouble. But now that you are going to take her away from me, you're going
to keep her. If you get too much of her and give her up, or if you don't lick her
enough and can't handle her, I'm going to beat up both of you. Small as you are,
you are going to get beaten up many times! I've had many a fight with her.
You two are not marrying for love. Now take her and remember what I say."

The man told him, "You can take my word for it, she won't make a slave out
of me."

"She'd better not. You'd better not let her," the husband said.

As the traditional stories and this account indicate, the hus-
band of a faithless woman is permitted to take drastic action if he
feels strongly about the injury done him. It is the. function of the
leaders to dissuade him from violence, but their pressure is moral
and not binding. A wronged husband who does not show some
rancor is considered unmanly. "A man would at least pretend
anger." The husband of the episode just recounted, in spite of
his great display of fury, "didn't care. He married right away to
a Comanche." If a husband does not seem to be very much ex-

3 Suicide as a result of unfaithfulness and marital difficulties is not unknown.
"If a man's wife was unfaithful and he killed her, he might kill himself." During
the stay at Fort Sill a Chiricahua known as Fun took his own life after an attack
on his wife in which he thought he had killed her. The woman recovered, how-
ever.

4io AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

cited over such an affair, "sometimes his friends will try to in-
flame him." Thus the social pressure upon the husband for stern
action is often almost equal to the efforts of the leaders to settle
the matter peaceably.

The woman, since she is close at hand, is likely to be the first
to feel the husband's wrath. A beating is the least punishment
she suffers. If there is no one to intercede for her, her very life
may be forfeit, or she may be subjected to mutilation:

A man never whips his wife without reason. If he finds out that she is unfaith-
ful, he whips her, cuts her nose, or else kills her. He would have to have evidence
of unfaithfulness and not hearsay, however. Treatment like this does not come
for little things. For not obeying him, or for not working, a man would merely
scold his wife, and he would do so in private. If the woman has committed adul-
tery, the people think that what happens to her is her own fault and don't say
anything about the punishment she gets.

The reason they cut the nose of a woman is to make her look ugly. She is
marked so that no one will meddle with her. One woman who is still living has
her nose cut like this. Her husband cut her nose out of jealousy and left her be-
cause she went with another man.

The husband is just as insistent that the man who has dis-
rupted his home be punished:

After the husband has punished or killed his wife, he will go after the man and
kill him. But the other, if he is wise, will run away and not return for years
until it has blown over. I cannot remember a case where the man who is to blame
has killed the husband instead. If that happened, close relatives of the husband
would kill him.

Nothing leads more quickly to trouble between men than sus-
picion or charges of wife seduction:

This morning I went up to a place where a group of men were standing. I was
right beside B. Pretty soon L. came. You could see he was angry. He placed
himself right in front of B. and said, "Somebody was crawling around my camp
last night and bothering my wife, and I just want to say that if I catch anyone
around there again, I'm going to kill him." You could see he was talking to B.
B. just hung his head. Then L. talked to B. directly and said, "If you ever come
around my camp again, I'm going to kill you."

I saw there might be trouble, so I stepped between them. "Now don't get
mad," I told L. "Don't get yourself into trouble."

PLATE XV

Laboratory of Anthropology of Santa Fe

Woman with Mutilated Nose

PLATE XVI

Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation

a) Men Playing Hoop-and-Pole Game

Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation

b) Hoop of Hoop-and-Pole Game; "Moccasins," Blanket, Bone, Strik-
ing Stick, and Counters of Moccasin Game

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 411

The birth of twins is considered evidence of unfaithfulness:

If any woman has twins, she is looked upon as having run with other men be-
sides her husband. My sister is one of a pair of twins.4 The other died a few days
after birth. I think they were both girls. The older one died. I never heard my
father say anything about it. One twin would not be kept. We believe that both
could not grow up; one would die. They keep the boy if the twins are a boy and a
girl.

Sometimes twins are born. Twins are considered unlucky. Twins cannot
grow up; they always die. Unfaithfulness on the part of the woman causes twins.
Sometimes one of the twins is stillborn.

If it is the husband who is philandering, his wife scolds him
and complains to her close relatives. But the man is in no danger
of a beating or of mutilation. Few wives take desperate action of
any kind:

If the husband is unfaithful and is discovered by his wife, his wife may say to
him, "Well, you love the other woman better than me; go and marry her." Or
she might let it go and forget and forgive entirely. The women don't have power
to do much to the men. A very mean woman might stab her husband at night or
something like that. The people wouldn't blame her much, because it is the
husband's fault. But only a very hard-up man would marry the woman after
this; so that keeps women from killing their husbands.

However, a woman who is very much angered by her hus-
band's conduct can send him away:

I heard the quarrel at the time. She told him, "You think you're going to
have this woman and myself for your wives, and you think you're going to stay
with this woman one time and with me another time. You think you're going to
go back and forth between us two wives. You are mistaken! You might pull that
on somebody else, but not on me. So you'll marry that woman. Go right ahead
and marry her. Our married life is over; we'll quit here. You'll leave this house
without anything and go and live with that woman." She sent him away.

It is apparent that both husband and wife are in a position to
demand fair play and to take appropriate action. Enough feeling
of self-importance and competence has been communicated to
individuals of both sexes during the training period, so that no
one is willing to accept humiliation as a matter of course.

The permanent disruption of a household involves the entire

4 The informant is not here impugning the virtue of his own mother, since this
is a half-sister, the offspring of his father's second wife.

4i2 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

extended family; therefore, the woman's relatives watch anxious-
ly any developments which may deprive them of the services of a
satisfactory son-in-law. Their tendency is to support the woman
in minor disputes; but, when she is obviously in the wrong, they
are just as likely to side with the husband and to remind their
relative of her wifely duties:

I feel sorry for that boy, my son-in-law. He's a good boy and steady, and I
know he is trying to do the right thing. But my girl is not doing what she should.
She's not keeping house in the right way and she is beginning to run around. She
thinks I don't know it. I'm going to put a stop to it.

DIVORCE

The word for divorce can be translated "they walk away from
each other." To divorce a person is "to throw him (her) away."
The woman is ordinarily left in possession of the home which she
has built, the household utensils which she has made, and her
private effects. If the trouble has been long continued, the hus-
band is willing enough to leave the encampment of his wife's
relatives. He takes with him his personal possessions only; there
is no return of marriage gifts at divorce.

The most common causes of divorce and the procedure have
been summarized in these words:

Unfaithfulness on the part of husband or wife, brutal treatment on the part of
either, and nagging are causes for trouble and divorce. Laziness on the part of
either, failure of the man or woman to do the proper share toward the support of
the home, and excessive gambling on the part of the man are other things that
lead to divorce. Barrenness on the part of the woman is sometimes given as a
cause too.

The one who intends to break it up just goes, taking what valuable personal
belongings he has. It's about half and half; sometimes women divorce men;
sometimes it's the men who leave. Divorce just consists of getting up and leav-
ing.

Additional factors and details are given in another comment:

Usually divorce follows if a woman cannot work well or if she is cranky and
hard to get along with. Sterility is also a cause for divorce, and frigidity too, for
men don't like that kind of a woman. Even if a woman is sweet and a good
worker, a man could divorce her for sterility or for frigidity. If she is sterile, a
woman might get on with her husband for a while, but he will soon divorce her.
Pretty soon she'll be passed from man to man, and she isn't respected.

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 413

With divorce, each person takes his own belongings without fuss and goes to
his and her old home. This did not often happen. The woman has little power to
stop a divorce if her husband wants one. Even if she doesn't want a divorce her
husband can get up and leave. If the woman wants to leave and the man doesn't
want her to, he can try to hold her by force. But she can usually get away to her
parent?' home.

Impocence as well as frigidity may be an important factor in
divorce decisions:

When a man can't get an erection, it is attributed to witchcraft. If it can't be
cured, this might be the real reason back of a divorce.

If a woman marries an impotent man, she may stay married to him for
wealth or something, but most likely they would separate.

After divorce, though a man must continue the avoidances
and polite forms which his marriage brought into being, the ma-
terial hold of his former wife's relatives is at an end:

If a man is determined to divorce his wife, or if she insists on divorcing him,
the parents-in-law cannot very well stop it. All the obligations of the man to
support the woman's family stop at divorce. He cannot be made to marry any
sister or girl cousin of his wife at any time in the future.3 But avoidances and
polite forms go on. Both the man and the woman are free from each other and
from each other's families as soon as the divorce has gone through, as soon as
they have separated. They can each marry as soon as they wish again then.

The presence of children acts as a decided brake to divorce
action. "In the old days it was pretty hard to get a divorce when
there were children. It was not often done then."

If, in case of divorce, the mother's relatives are willing to con-
tribute to the support of the children and the mother is willing to
maintain her household, this is considered the best solution.
Though there is no definite rule, there is the feeling that children
should be under the care of the mother and her kin during their
formative years. Babies who are not yet weaned always remain
with the mother, and, in general, very young children are likely
to stay with her. Sometimes older children, particularly boys,
are claimed by the father. When the man can charge that the
woman is at fault and has not been a fit parent, public opinion
and the pressure of group leaders force acquiescence on the part

s For a discussion of the sororate see pp. 421-25.

4i4 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

of the wife and her relatives. Wealth may even decide the issue;
where the relatives of the wife are poor and the man and his kin
have greater resources, the husband may take a child with him
at the dissolution of the marriage.

The divorced man returns to his parental home or stays with
some close relative. Unless he is well along in years, he soon mar-
ries again.

The chief loser in a divorce action is the woman. For at least
part of her sustenance she is now once more dependent on her
own relatives, who, too, have lost economic assistance. Because
she is now an experienced woman with a record of marital diffi-
culties, it is unlikely that a new husband will offer presents to her
parents. Should she fail to be married again soon, her reputation
suffers. The word meaning ''single woman who has been married
before" (divorcee, widow) has an unsavory connotation. "This
word would only be used to a single woman who was married
before, and never to one who is single in the sense that she has
not married at all yet. The word is more or less of an insult, and
a person would not use it to a woman whom he respects."

Because unmarried girls are carefully guarded, the promiscu-
ous women are usually divorcees and widows who have failed to
remarry. From them the community and their kin do not exact
the same high standards of conduct demanded of the unmarried
girls: "At a drinking party there might be a young divorced
woman, but it is very unlikely that any unmarried girl would
attend. Young men attend though." Divorced women are
thought more likely to have illegitimate children than the un-
married: "After a first marriage a woman might have children
out of wedlock, but that kind of woman is not liked."

Marriage can be more easily contracted with a divorced
woman than with a maiden. The waiving of marriage gifts has
already been noted. Less pressure upon relatives and less per-
suasiveness are required in arranging such a match. The celebra-
tion of a military victory or the social dance of a puberty rite
may even be the occasion for a very informal union with a
divorced woman:

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 415

During the dance after a war party returns, it is all right to go home with a
divorced woman. This kind of marriage is permitted. But it would not be done
with a girl who had never been married. This could also be done during the social
dancing at the tepee ceremony. These are people who have already been courting
each other and talking together. It is just a good chance to do what they in-
tended to do anyway.

SEXUAL ABERRANCE AND PERVERSION

According to an informant, "homosexuality is forbidden. The
person who does this is considered a witch and is killed." Yet
there is a suggestion of the violation of the canon in another
statement. "I have never heard of two men having sexual rela-
tions together. I've heard about women doing it and about boys
doing it to each other, but not older men."

One story of Lesbianism continually goes the rounds. "They
say that there were two women at Fort Sill who lived together
and had sexual relations together. They say someone once heard
one of them ask the other, Ts it sticky ?' " Another informant who
mentioned this incident placed it in the distant past:

I never heard of male homosexuality. I have, however, heard of Lesbianism.
There was a case a long time ago, and the old men used to talk about it. There
were two married women who ran off from their husbands and made a camp
together for themselves. The people went to their camp and heard the two
women talking. One was on top of the other, and one asked the other if she felt
something sticky. The answer was, "Yes."

These women were laughed at and ridiculed. I don't know what they did
after they were discovered, whether they continued to live together or not. I
just heard the old people talk about this long ago.

If I should see two women behaving like this, I would feel ashamed of them if
they had relatives. But if the women didn't have close relatives, I wouldn't feel
so ashamed of them. The difference is that the women would bring shame to
their relatives. The rest of the people might think they were so hard up they
couldn't be married properly.

There are a number of women who excel in activities com-
monly considered the interests of men. Two such women, both
now very old, were mentioned by several persons, and one in
particular was singled out as a deviant from the ordinary fem-
inine behavior pattern:

4i6 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Every now and then a woman would be expert with the bow and could make
arrows and a bow. This is exceptional though. Two women here could do every-
thing like a boy when they were young. D. could ride well, make a bow and
arrows, and was a real athlete. She has been married. Her husband died just a
few years ago. Shejias never had children, but her husband was married before
and had two children by his first wife.

These women, though they are more interested in masculine
pursuits than the average woman, are not considered transves-
tites. All girls are urged to be strong and fast. It is simply accept-
ed that these particular individuals have carried the requirement
further than is strictly necessary. Their preoccupation with such
things was confined primarily to their youth. They have mar-
ried, have accepted the woman's role in all essentials, and in old
age are not distinguishable in dress or behavior from others of
their sex and years. The attitude of those discussing them is never
one of ridicule or condemnation but rather one of admiration.

True berdaches are rare, and their emergence is definitely dis-
couraged. The last one of whom I have a record died before
i38o:

P. and S. had a brother who was like this. He never married. He died in Old
Mexico. This man talked and walked like a woman, sewed clothes, and made
moccasins. He didn't make baskets though. He went where the women were all
the time. He hardly ever went where the men were playing at hoop and pole, and
he himself never played it. Instead he played the stave game with the women.
Such people were never treated with any great respect by us. We just laugh at
them.

POLYGYNY AND SORORAL POLYGYNY

In a coyote story a white man whom Coyote deceives is said
to have two wives. The polygyny with which this alien is cred-
ited is really practiced by some men of the tribe:

In the old way a man can have more than one wife. Of course, he isn't ex-
pected to take more than one wife if he can't afford it. If he isn't a leading man or
a good warrior, he shouldn't do it. A common man is criticized for it. It is the
wealthy men who have more than one wife. A man can have more than two
wives. It depends on a man's position and whether he can provide for them.

When a man takes a second wife, it is usually a sister or relative of the first.
But this is not always the case. Perhaps there are no more girls in that family, or
there are none of the right age. If the women a man marries come from different
families, he has to hide from both his mothers-in-law and keep up the avoidances
and polite forms for the relatives of both those women.

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 417

There is no real ranking of wives, though the first, because she is usually
older, might have more to say. The wives live in one encampment but in sepa-
rate households. When a man has two wives, the one he married first is called
"she who sits first." The second wife is called "she sits on her." It really means
that she is going to help, to sit next to the other woman. That's how we feel
about it.

N., a leader who died about ten years ago, had two wives at the same time.
He had them right through the time we were at Fort Sill. The wives and children
got along well. He had children by both women, and they lived in peace.

When there is more than one wife, the children of one call the children of the
others siliis and silah. If a second wife is the sister or cousin of the first, the chil-
dren of one call the other woman "aunt" and are called "niece" and "nephew"
by her.

If their father's other wife is no relative of their mother, they call her "step-
mother."6 The husband calls the children of both of these women "son" and
"daughter." The real mother calls her own children "son" and "daughter" too.

If a man marries a second sister, he does not have to give more presents. If he
marries outside his first wife's family, he does have to give presents though.

The subject of plural wives drew this statement from an
elderly man :

Most men have one wife The limit is about five. If a man can afford it,

he might have more, because there is no rule, but the greatest number of wives I
ever heard of is four or five, and the greatest number I've actually known about
is only two or three. Just because a man marries the eldest of several sisters, he
has no claim on the others. Of course, he might marry a sister of his wife if he is
ready to marry again and both are willing.

When a man has more than one wife, the first wife is respected more than the
others, providing she has children. She acts like the boss and can order the other
wife around. If the first wife has no children and the second one has, the second
wife would probably be liked better, and in time the first one might be divorced.
If one of a man's wives dies, the other wife or wives help to raise her children.
They are not adopted by anyone else.

Though all agree that sororal polygyny is preferable, there is
some difference of opinion concerning the strictness with which
the rule should be applied. A strong feeling for the custom is
expressed thus: "A man can have more than one wife. If there
is one available for him, he has to marry a wife's sister if he takes
a second wife. He marries the oldest sister usually. They all live

6 One term, a self-reciprocal, means both stepmother and stepchild, woman
speaking.

4i 8 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

in the same dwelling. If one has a baby, he sleeps with the one
who has no baby."

The motive force toward sororal polygyny, of course, is the
obligation which the man owes his first wife's parents. Should
they permit him to marry a second wife from another family,
they would, in effect, be agreeing to share his time and services:

If a man wants a second wife, he is not free to marry anyone who appeals to
him. His first obligation and duty are to his wife's family. If his wife has any
sisters or female cousins who are eligible, he would have to marry one of them
rather than go outside the family. If he wants to marry outside nevertheless, he
has to get permission from that family. He would never make such a request
unless he suspected that the family does not care much about him anyway.
Even if the wife's family does not have any eligible girls, as a matter of courtesy
he should state his intentions and ask permission. The great obligation of a man
to his wife's family guides him in all his actions. Therefore, the second wife is
usually the sister of the first.

But, for one reason or another, it is often impossible to estab-
lish sororal polygyny:

Sometimes a man takes the sister of his wife as his second wife. But it does
not always happen that way. It's pretty well divided. N. had two wives who
were not sisters. Another man has two wives who are sisters. There are a good
many cases where the women are not sisters. C. had three wives at one time.
One is left now. They were not sisters. G. had four at one time; none of them
were sisters.

Whether sororal polygyny can be arranged depends in large
measure on the ages of the wife's sisters when the husband joins
the family and on the relations which they initially establish
with him:

If the sister of your wife wants to, she can hide from you. Usually she
doesn't do this though. She can use polite form to you if she wants to. If she
starts this, you probably will never marry her, at least while your wife is alive.
Only a grown girl would use the polite form to you. Using the polite form is not a
matter of liking a person only; it is a matter of respect. And when you have this
respect relationship between you, you aren't going to get friendly and intimate
to the point where she can become a second wife.

But if a sister of your wife is quite young when you marry and she doesn't use
polite form to you and grows up around you, sees you without your shirt, and
under all conditions, she isn't going to use polite form to you when she grows up.
She is too friendly with you for that. Then you can marry her all right

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 419

The manner in which interest in the wife's sister develops to
the point where sororal polygyny occurs has been convincingly
described:

I don't know whether I would marry my wife's sister, too, under the old con-
ditions. It depended on a man's wealth, on whether he could support more than
one woman. The intimacy grows up gradually. Maybe you get familiar with her
in secret. Then it comes out into the open, and, if your wife thinks it is all right,
you marry her sister too. That's how it was with a man I know of. Now he
doesn't care. He walks to the store with that other woman [his wife's sister, his
second wife].

The other day my wife and her younger sister were going to the creek for
water. I went along. The sister did something, like poking me in the ribs. I
picked her up and made believe I was going to throw her in the creek. My wife
was pouring water down my neck. I didn't think anything of it because we are
always cutting up like that. My wife didn't either. I thought no one was around.
Then I noticed that a lot of people were watching. I felt pretty much ashamed
and let the girl down.

Just to show you how it works: My wife had a sister, now dead, who used to
want to go around and camp with us. I didn't know it, but after a while my wife
told me that the people were saying that I had two wives. The old man, her
father, heard of this first and didn't want the sister to go with us any more. ? He
told his wife, and she told my wife. My wife said she didn't care, that it wasn't
so, but that even if it was so, it would be all right. You see the idea is still pretty
strong. My wife's sister didn't care what they said either, and she didn't stop
going around with us.

I think this is the way those double marriages came about in the old days. It
was a gradual thing growing out of intimacy, and nothing was thought about it.
It was possible because sisters were together so much, and an unmarried girl, if
there wasn't any hiding or polite talk to interfere, would be around her sister's
home and see her sister's husband all the time.

There seems to be.no unalterable usage governing living ar-
rangements when a man has more than one wife:

If there are two wives, sometimes each has a separate dwelling and sometimes
not. All eat together if they are living in the same dwelling; if not, each woman
and her children eat separately. The man divides his time between the women.
The first wife has authority and the favored position.

According to the testimony of another man, the "wives live
together in one camp, with the first wife having rights over the

7 This man, the father, was himself practicing sororal polygyny at the time.

42o AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

second woman." Another commentator, however, feels that sep-
arate households for wives is the more usual state, especially in
times of peace, although "sometimes in wartime they are in the
same house because of the danger." In all probability adjust-
ments are made to needs and particular situations. The size of
the family and the degree of cordiality existing between wives
have much to do with the determination of living arrangements.
Leadership and wealth come with years and experience; there-
fore, a man is not likely to take a second wife until a good many
years after his first marriage. This may account, in part, for the
absence of serious friction between co-wives. The older woman
normally has shared her youth with her husband, has borne him
children, and has attained status and a good deal of control over
the family before the second wife enters the household. She often
welcomes the newcomer for the assistance the arrangement will
give her with the household duties. Sometimes it is at her insti-
gation that another wife is taken. Since only leaders and wealthy
men can afford to have more than one wife, polygyny is not wide-
ly practiced. No more than 20 per cent and perhaps only 10 per
cent of the men would be able to undertake such responsibilities.

THE SORORATE AND LEVIRATE

At the death of a wife or a husband, the surviving mate is
spoken of as "one who has become tea." The word ica does not
yield to linguistic analysis, but it has the force of "bound to" or
"under the control of." Those who exercise the control are the
relatives of the deceased spouse. Those to whom the surviving
partner is "bound" (in the sense that they may request marriage
of him or her) are the dead person's siblings and cousins of the
same sex. Of the terminological usage one informant explained:
"A man shouldn't say of another man, 'He is "bound" to me.'
He should say, 'He is "bound" to us,' meaning to the whole
family. But a man can be 'bound' to a woman." Another said of
the word: "When you say, 'She (he) becomes "bound,"' you
mean that the person is a widow or widower, but is not free."

The substance of the sororate and levirate has been defined
thus:

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 421

A man is "bound" to his wife's sister when his wife dies. The woman has the
right in the matter. She approaches the man or not as she wishes. If the wife has
a sister and a cousin, and the sister does not like him but the cousin does and asks
him to marry her, he is obliged to marry her as if she were the sister, and the
family considers it in the same light. If no one asks him within a reasonable
period of time, the man can marry anyone he wishes.

It's just the reverse if a man dies and leaves a widow. Then one of the dead
husband's brothers or cousins can ask her to marry him, and she cannot refuse.

The sororate. — As soon as a man's wife dies he becomes
"bound" to his affinal relatives. Together they go into formal
mourning. The attitude toward a well-liked and grief-stricken
son-in-law is kindly. "After the death of his wife, a good man, in
the old days, would not care for anything. He would not even
care about making a living. But his wife's relatives would help
him. They would see that he got the necessities." But should
the widower be too light-hearted or show interest in any woman
of another family, it is counted a grave affront to the departed
and a serious breach of the respect owed her relatives. Those to
whom the bereaved is "bound" are said to be "jealous," that is,
watchful of his conduct.

As it functions, the sororate is a device for bridging quickly,
with least disadvantage to the children of the deceased and to
the extended family, the gap caused by the death of a married
woman:

When S.'s sister, my wife, died, he called me [by the term meaning] "bound
to" his family. I couldn't have called him this. It meant that I was not free
from him, that if he had any more sisters he could make me marry one. But that
was all the sisters he had. Now that I'm married again, he can't call me that.

If a man's wife dies, he will marry a woman to whom he is "bound." If his
wife dies, a man is "bound" to her sister, and if she has no sister, to her unmar-
ried cousins. If the dead woman has two unmarried sisters, he might be asked to
marry either. The word ica means "belonging to."8 In this case, where his wife
has died, the man is "bound." He is not exactly forced to marry the woman to
whom he "belongs," but her family wouldn't like it if he refused. They couldn't
do much about it though. He would just violate that rule.

If a man is "bound" to a woman, it's up to her to act and show what she
intends to do. He must not speak to her first about it, for he belongs to her, and
it's her right. After a while she would come to him if she felt like it and say,

8 While this informant's suggestion is good, it seems to me that "bound" or
"bound to" is a closer approximation to the meaning of the term.

422 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

"Now you are 'bound to me.' If you are willing, we will get married." She
would come to him personally. Then there would be no presents, no wait, no
feast; they just begin living together.

But if she lets several years pass without asking him, it would be a sign that
she does not want to marry him. In this case, he knows that they are willing to
let him go, to let him marry outside that family.

The man usually goes and asks permission of his dead wife's family if he wants
to marry out of it. Even if his dead wife's people have no more girls and he
wants to marry again, he will have to let her parents know what he wants to do
as a matter of courtesy.

The family of the dead woman cannot force the man to marry
anyone other than a relative of his former mate, however:

If the dead wife has no sister, the man may be forced by his in-laws to marry
whom they say, and he won't object as long as it is a relative of his wife. But if
they have no relatives for him to marry and they suggest another girl, he isn't
bound to obey.9

If there are two sisters of the dead wife left and they both want him, he takes
the one he pleases. He practically always takes the older though. But it's the
woman who has the say; if she objects to the man, he doesn't marry her, of
course.

The degree of control which the family of the deceased exer-
cises is further explained in another statement:

If the widower has nobody to stand up for his rights, his in-laws can make it
tough for him and see that he can't marry anybody else if he won't marry his
sister-in-law. He might marry her, however, and if they don't get along, they
can divorce — and that is the man's chance to get free.

When a man's wife dies, the children usually go to a female relative of the
wife to be cared for. Later, if the man marries again out of the family, he can get
his children back. But if he marries out of the family, he can't get married again
until a year or two after his wife has died. It depends on how soon her relatives
will let him marry again. If you marry out of that family, you have to wait a
long time. If a man loved his wife, he wouldn't want to remarry for a long time
anyway. Only a bad one, a low-down cuss who was not brought up right, would
remarry soon.

The long mourning and waiting period which must elapse be-
fore a man may marry someone who is not a relative of his first
wife is again emphasized in another comment:

9 But a sister by adoption may be considered a blood relative for these pur-
poses: "If a girl adopted into a family has a 'sister,' at her death her husband
would be 'bound' to this sister."

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 423

If a man whose dead wife has no eligible sisters or cousins marries outside the
family too soon, his former wife's family resent it and call him down for it. This
is thought to be very disrespectful to the dead and is considered very serious.
He can't do anything like this before a year of mourning has passed. Often it is
two years before he can get permission.

Soon after his wife's death a widower was approached con-
cerning matrimony by an alien woman. In his own words:

I changed the subject as quickly as I could. It was only a short time after my
wife's death, and I knew that I couldn't marry then, for my dead wife's family

would take it as an insult Then I told her, "Maybe I could think about

such a thing later on. But here my wife has been dead only a little while, and her
relatives would get mad at me if I married now, and then no good would come
of it."

This same point is brought out in a criticism of a book pur-
porting to be a life-history of Geronimo:

I know that there are lots of things in that book that Geronimo wouldn't like.
For instance, he [the author] says that Geronimo married again a few months
after the death of his first wife. Geronimo did not marry a sister or relative of his
first wife; therefore, he could not have remarried that soon. The Chiricahua
simply do not do that. I know that Geronimo didn't marry until long after the
death of his first wife. The only way an Apache can marry again pretty quickly
is if he marries one he is "bound to." But if he marries an outsider right after his
wife's death, they sure criticize him!

Look at R. His wife died. He then married his wife's sister. He married
about four or five months after his wife's death. No one thought anything
against it. But if he had married that soon outside the family, they would have
thought it was awful. After his first wife died he stayed camped near his mother-
in-law. The mother-in-law and his present wife took care of the children after
their mother died. Now the family goes right on. That's what this way of doing
things is for.

The last part of this quotation introduces a significant point —
the shortening of the mourning period to facilitate the remar-
riage of a man to a member of his deceased wife's family:

The dead woman's sisters talk over who should take the children, if there are
any. If one is unmarried and wants the man, she marries him and takes the chil-
dren. If a woman dies and leaves a widower, the dead woman's sister is supposed
to ask the man to marry her. They marry in less than a month sometimes,
though they might wait as long as a year. But some people don't wait long after
the death of a brother or sister. This is all right if they marry the mate of the
dead person.

424 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The sororate does not become operative when one of a man's
co-wives dies, even though the two women were not sisters. It
is then considered that a man's obligations are to his surviving
wife and her relatives:

N. was an Eastern Chiricahua. He had two wives. One died. The one who
died had sisters, but they had no claim on him, because he had one wife left. He
lived with this one wife until she died. This last woman had no sisters, so he
lived on single for many years before he died. The "bound to" relationship does
not apply when a man has more than one wife.

Theoretically, a bereaved man is supposed to accede without
dispute to the wishes of those to whom he is "bound." But ac-
tually he or his relatives may resist these dictates, and, if his case
is a good one, he succeeds in gaining his freedom:

If they offer me my sister-in-law after my wife's death and I don't like her, I
do not go to my wife's family myself but I get a relative of mine whom I trust. I
say to him, "My brother, my mother-in-law wants to give me her daughter, and
you know what kind of a girl she is! Her sister was a very different sort of wom-
an. I had a good home with her and I worked well. But with this girl it would be
different. She would make trouble for me and perhaps I would make trouble for
her. She runs around with men and doesn't work hard."

Then my friend will go to my mother-in-law's house and bring back word
from her. If the old lady is convinced, she will say, "My son-in-law lived well
with my daughter and we like him. This other daughter is not the right kind for
him. He is sensible and is doing right. We would be glad to keep him in the
family, but I don't blame him at all. I leave it to him." Then I am free to marry
as I want to.

Just as often the man is willing enough to marry his wife's
relative but waits in vain for the summons:

D. was married to T.'s oldest girl. This woman died. He wanted then to
marry another girl of the family, the sister next in age to his dead wife. The old
folks wanted to arrange it that way, for it was according to the old customs and
D. was "bound to" them. But the girl didn't want to. This girl is dead now.
There were no other daughters old enough. She considered him too old and ugly,
I guess. The girl thought she could do better by passing up that old custom. It
was up to them to give him a girl or to free him. The old people didn't want to
force the girl, so they had to let him go.

So important is the sororate that it may override any re-
straints which avoidance or polite form has imposed:

If the wife's sister or girl cousin avoids a man and at the death of his wife she
wishes to marry him, she could roll a cigarette, take a few puffs on it, and send it

MARITAL AND SEXUAL LIFE 425

to him by a messenger with the words that after that they would not have to be
ashamed before each other. If the man accepts the cigarette, he no longer has to
avoid her and is free to marry her.

If she has not been avoiding him but was just using polite form to him, she
could offer the cigarette herself, saying that thereafter the polite form would not
be necessary. If he accepts it, all would be as before.

Even when the family to which a man is "bound" has no girl
to offer in place of the deceased, the man must act with the great-
est of respect until he is formally freed:

If his father-in-law has no more daughters, the husband will want to marry
out of the family after a while. He will say, "I am young and I wish to marry. I
respect you and your family, but you have no more daughters for me." He has
to get permission to marry out. If the old man refuses permission, even if he has
no more daughters, the young man will have to obey. The old man, the father-
in-law, is the boss. When the young man gets permission he goes off to another
encampment and marries there.

An excellent example of the spirit in which an understanding
is reached and of the speeches that pass back and forth before
the widower regains his freedom of action is provided in this
account:

If, after my wife's death, my mother-in-law has any more daughters and she
likes me, she will send one of them, and I'll marry her. But if she has only sons,
and finally I feel that there is some other woman I want to marry, I talk to my
brother-in-law, if he is old enough, and I say, "I have had a hard time, but now I
want to marry again. You have no other girls for me to marry, and now I am
ready to marry again."

Then he will go and tell his mother, and the next day he will come back and
say, "What has happened has happened. It can't be helped. If we had anybody
to give you, we'd give you a woman. You have been good to us, and we hate to
have you part from us, but there is no help for it. We hope you will get a good
girl and be happy." After this you are not under obligation to your mother-in-
law.

The levirate. — The existence of the levirate does not give a
man any extraordinary privileges with the wife of his brother or
male cousin while these relatives are still alive:

In the right way a man is supposed to have great respect for his cousin's wife.
You should leave your brother's wife alone and your cousin's wife alone too.
They call you a witch if you do otherwise. Only when people get very old do they
joke a little when they are related like this — people of R.'s age [sixty-five to
seventy] might, but never the young people.

426 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

If a married man dies, however, his widow becomes "bound"
to his family and particularly to his brothers and male cousins:

The woman then "belongs to" the dead man's brothers or cousins. She would
be "bound" to them. The woman cannot marry for a long time after her husband
dies, except to one of his relatives. But if none of them asks her to marry within a
couple of years after the death, it is a sign that none of them wants to marry her,
and she is free to marry someone else if she has the chance.

Even though the woman remains among her own relatives
after her bereavement, cares for her children as usual, and need
not have much direct contact with her former husband's kin, she
owes them obedience and courtesy. If she fails in this obligation,
they are not slow to show resentment:

G. married a Chiricahua man. She was a Chiricahua herself. Her husband
died, and she was, therefore, "bound" to her husband's family. They did not
have an available man for her. T., the only possibility, was already married. So
she married a Mescalero Apache. She went around saying some pretty mean
things about the family to which she was "bound." T. got pretty mad and said
he was going over there and slit her nose.

This illustrates the point that a woman is directly responsible to her dead
husband's family. A woman who went around with someone to whom she was
not "bound" might have her nose cut. It was the right of the dead man's family
to dispose of her and watch her conduct. Any of them can warn her of her con-
duct. If the husband has no brothers, a cousin will marry her. The age of the
cousin does not matter. The oldest one does not necessarily marry her. Choice is
what counts.

Should the widow's relatives-in-law choose for her a man she
does not like, she and her kin must convince them that the mar-
riage would be unwise. If the woman has been an unworthy wife,
if none of the brothers or cousins of the deceased is interested in
her, or if the dead man's relatives feel that her family was too
harsh to him, the group to whom the widow is "bound" reject
her.

There is the case of a single man whose married brother died. Then the dead
man's wife was "bound" to him. She wanted to marry him all right, but he
didn't want her. She waited a number of years, but he wouldn't have her. He
knew she wanted him. People used to kid him about it. We would say, "Now
she is 'bound' to you, why don't you go and marry that woman?" It would sure
make him angry! A good many of the boys used to tease him. She finally mar-
ried someone else.

THE ROUND OF LIFE

THE economic, ceremonial, and social practices which
have been described provide a framework within which
members of the tribe move. But the full reality is some-
thing more. The individual pauses to enjoy the result of his ef-
forts, seeks to earn the good opinion of his neighbors, pays visits
to his friends, and attempts to find satisfaction and laughter.
His days are filled with many minor adjustments to other human
beings. And all these responses are guided by a body of under-
standings and etiquette.

CAMP LIFE AND ETIQUETTE

Every encampment of any size, especially when there is any
suspicion of danger, has a guard at night. The lookout "is not
especially chosen. It is just anyone who feels like it and is willing
to do it. There is no organization about it." When information
concerning the enemy's movements demands that near-by
groups of tribesmen be notified, "fast runners are sent" with the
message. If the distance is great, the messenger rides a horse,
because "horses are hardier and don't get hungry or thirsty
soon."

When the people move from a camp site, certain precautions
must be taken:

The fire pit is covered up neatly, and the brush beds are gathered up and put
in a neat pile. They say that, if you leave the camp just as it was in use and
simply pick up your blankets and go, the coyote, the crow, and other harmful
animals and birds may come and urinate or defecate on the place. Then, because
everything is arranged just as it was when it was occupied, the person it belongs
to will be affected wherever he is.

A different reason for the care taken in breaking camp was
offered by another informant:

When moving camp, the mattresses of grass, leaves, and branches are brought
together and put all in one pile. The beds are not left as they were when they

427

428 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

were in use, for, if some member of the family should die and the bed is not taken
apart in this manner, it would be at the last camp site as it was when it was used
by this dead person and would remind others of the user. This causes sorrow to
friends and relatives.

There are a number of methods for reckoning time, so that
movements and meetings may be planned and ceremonies per-
formed according to a schedule:

During the day, time is judged by the shadows caused by the sun. It is noon
when the shadow drops just under you. Some people place a stick upright in the
ground and watch the movement of the shadow to figure out the time of day.
Another way is to note how many fingers the sun is above the horizon. On cloudy
days you have to guess at the position of the sun.

We notice the shortening of the days as winter gets near. As soon as the days
begin to lengthen, we say, "It [the sun] has begun to move back upward."

During the night we tell time by the position of the moon and the morning
star. In wintertime the morning star gets as high as halfway between the horizon
and the zenith. When it is in this position, it is nearly morning.

The Big Dipper is used in telling time at night. "As its stars
'spin around' it is possible to tell the passage of the night by
whether the cup is turned or not." "The Dipper turns around
and faces down; this takes all night." Another group of stars
consulted for the time of night is the Pleiades. "You can see it
early in the evening in winter in the east. When it is high, morn-
ing is near."

Stars that appear at certain seasons are noted. "There is a
star that is right straight up in the summer. We call it 'rock bed'
after the rocks at the bottom of the mescal pit."

Members of the household usually eat two meals together, al-
though sometimes individuals eat during the day as they get
hungry and gather for an evening meal only:

We never followed the three-meals-a-day idea at home or away. Even in the
morning there wasn't a regular meal unless there was meat that had to be boiled
and eaten warm. Then we would eat together for convenience. Otherwise there
was no system. Three meals a day is recent. At home, in everyday life, the
women eat with the men, but at social dances and feasts they do not.

Each person helps himself from a common container, using his
fingers for solid foods and a yucca-blade spoon for liquids.
Though "it is considered impolite to make a noise while eating,"

THE ROUND OF LIFE 429

it is permissible "to smack the lips to show that you are enjoying
yourself when you are eating out."

Not only the stomach but the entire body should be "fed":

We put grease on the legs when we eat in order to "feed" them. It makes us
good runners. After we eat fat meat there is grease on our hands, and we rub
them on the legs and say, "Let me be a fast runner." Sometimes the leg bone of
an animal is broken, and the marrow is rubbed on the lower legs, the forearms,
the hair, and the face while this is said.

There are few special usages in departing from friends or in
returning to them. A phrase "said at parting, by people who are
very graceful in speech, to a friend, acquaintance, or relative"
can be literally translated, "May we live and see each other
again." Upon returning after a long absence, the formal manner
of expressing pleasure and greeting is the embrace. "Friends and
relatives embrace; if a friend does it, it means that he thinks a
great deal of you."

Loneliness growing out of separations has a special treatment.
"If you are lonesome, if you have lost someone, or if your daugh-
ter has gone away and you are worrying all the time, they put a
basket over your head four times, and then you are all right.
Now they use a bucket or a sack too."

There are no set phrases to be uttered when a friend is en-
countered in the vicinity of the camps. "We have no words like
'Good morning' or 'Good evening.' But when we meet a person,
we have to say something. You can't call a person's name. You
must be clever and say something appropriate to the occasion.
You might start off by asking, 'Where have you been ?' '

The question of greetings and salutations directs attention
again to the proper use of the name.1 The manner of its employ-
ment is well summarized in two statements:

The name is very valuable. Children are taught not to call a person's name
when they meet him. My own name is "Making a Bed All the Time." When I

1 That the name need not distinguish the sex of the bearer has already been
mentioned (see p. 9). An incident illustrates the point. "A woman's name and
a man's name are not distinguishable. If I hear nothing more than a name, I
have no idea whether it belongs to a man or a woman, just from the sound or
meaning. My wife mentioned a certain name. I thought she was talking about a
certain man. One day I saw him pass by and I said, "There goes So-and-so

43o AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

was a boy my relatives made a bed for me wherever we stayed, and so I got this
name.

I will tell you under what conditions I would call a man's name. If someone in
my family died and I wanted help, I would do so. I would go to someone, call
him by name, and say, "So-and-so, my wife has died and I need help." The per-
son would then be- under obligation to help me all he could. If a man who is in
need comes to me and calls me, I would help him at once. I would give what I
could.

No matter how poor a man is, if he is called by name, he will do something
about it. It makes a person very sad if someone calls on him by name and he is not
able to help. If a man calls my name and asks me for something valuable, I will
give it to him, because I know he needs it badly. A man is willing to do anything
for another if he calls him by name. But if a man asks for something valuable
without calling my name, I would consider it a joke, for, if the man really needed
it, he would call my name.

If a man is very sick and is sent to a shaman, and he is afraid the shaman will
not take the case, he will call him by his name. Also in war or in the war dance
the name is used because it is a case of emergency.2

(using the name I had heard from my wife). My wife came and looked. 'Why,
that's not his name!' she said. 'It belongs to his wife.' "

Because names have been reduced to initials throughout this study, a number
of them are included here in translation to indicate their quality. Most of these
could be borne by either men or women; a few, such as "Thin Old Woman" and
"Red Boy" could not, for they denote sex.

Names of Women Names of Men

Stepping on Water Heavy-Set

Round Nose Going about with Head Bent Down

One Who Has Sucked One Who Yawns

One Who Stays at Home One Who Chews
Streaming Down One Wrho Peels It

Sleepy One WTho Checks the Horse

Walks into White Man Not Quite Enough

Yellow Eyelids Blessing with Pollen

Buckskin Shaker Little Rabbit

Thin Old Woman Coyote Has Sores

One Who Tears Up Things

Broken Foot

Little Face

Belt

2 An instance of the use of the name in an emergency plea is introduced in one
of the myths. Wind had hidden from the earth after a quarrel with Lightning.
The rain fell unhindered. Finally, the bees were sent to find Wind and induce
him to return to his duties. When they located him, "they called the name of the
wind, for it was an emergency, and they called his name to his face."

THE ROUND OF LIFE 431

The only other times a man will call the name of another to his face are when
he is drunk or angry; a man in his right senses won't do it. But if a person is
angry with another, he drops all reserve and calls the other's name freely, telling
him what he thinks of him. You have to be careful about this, for it means a
fight.

It is considered very impolite to call a man's name to his face. You might call
his name when he is not present, but we think it impolite to call the name of a
person who is with you. Not long ago I was by the roadside with a young fellow.
An old man was riding past. This young fellow forgot himself and called the
rider by name. The old man paid no attention and rode on. The young fellow
felt pretty much ashamed.

An occasion when the name was purposely used to start a
quarrel was described:

This boy came toward me, calling to me and using my name. "You think
you're smart!" he told me. He used my name a lot. He did it with emphasis.
Then we started to fight.

Very early the next morning, before I was out of bed, he came over. He had
come to tell me that he was sorry for what he had done. He used my name this
time too. This was a special occasion; that's why.

The proper use of the name is a potent factor in obtaining a
favorable response to a request:

One time my wife and I wanted some medicine to keep. We were collecting
lots of roots. We had a sack of them. We didn't know how the leaves of one
particular plant looked, so we couldn't collect any. My wife heard that an old
lady had this kind we wanted, and she asked me to go and get some.

I didn't want to do it, for I knew this plant was valuable to the old lady. She
was a ceremonial woman and used some in her ceremony. But my wife kept
bothering me until I went to the old lady's home. First I visited with her for a
few minutes. You have to act just so to the old people. When I got there, she
began to talk about things, about the weather. When you call on a person you
haven't visited before, you are treated extra fine, for that person knows you
want some favor.

I didn't want to ask her for it. I guess she thought I needed help. People
come to her because of sickness. Finally, she asked me what I wanted. I started
to say I didn't come for anything special, and then I had to say it; so I called her
by name and said, "So-and-so, I am gathering some plants, just out of curiosity.
I have some of my own, but I hear you have a plant used in a certain sickness.
If you care to, I wish you would give me a sample of it."

I used the language that brings results. She gave me a handful of it. This
medicine is for tuberculosis. It is called "narrow medicine" [Perezia wrightii].

432 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

When she gave it to me, she told me not to use it, for I didn't know the ceremony
and would get into trouble.

Later on she met my wife. She told my wife that ordinarily she would not
have given me that medicine, that it is very valuable and she doesn't give it
away. But I had come like a gentleman. I knew the old customs and how to call
her name. I wasn't like so many of the younger people. I had respect for the old
customs, and so she gave it to me. Since then I have been pretty good friends
with that old woman.

To avoid using names, teknonymy, nicknames, and age terms
are resorted to in referring to individuals:

You often hear a person spoken of as the father of So-and-so, the mother of
So-and-so. The reason for doing this is that it is an easy way to get around
calling a person's name, especially before the person or his relatives. A younger
person is spoken of through his older relatives too.

I don't know whether I have a nickname. A person's nickname will never be
called before him. H. is known as "He Who Wears Glasses." If I say this, every-
one knows who I mean. It is a good way of getting out of calling the real name.
But though everyone uses it, I doubt that H. even knows about it, and he prob-
ably never will.

J. is called "Mexican." Everyone uses this. But he doesn't know it and prob-
ably would not like it. But this is not said for meanness. Even some who use
polite form to him call him this.

"Old man" is not used like the English "Mr." We never would say "old
man" and then add a man's Chiricahua name. The word refers to age or is used
so that the name of a person can be avoided. A man goes to a camp looking for
another man. He has to let the people there know what he wants. So he says to
the wife or whoever is around, "Where is the old man?" They know who he
means then, for he's looking for the man of the family.

Lots of people come around looking for my father-in-law. They don't call
him by name, for it is very impolite to call a man by his name just for nothing.
So they ask for "the old man." Of course, they might mean me if I were absent.
My wife would have to take a chance in answering. She could guess pretty well
by who it is. If it's someone I know well or go around with, she would know he
was looking for me.

Persons or objects may be indicated by pointing:

If a man asks where another is, the person spoken to is more likely to point
with the lips than with the hand. Now old people come in the store and point
to objects on the shelves with their lips. Pointing with the hands is really for
emphasis and is not considered polite. It should be done only in anger, when you
might say, "That man over there!" and point.

THE ROUND OF LIFE 433

A gesture of mock-seriousness is often seen:

If a person wants to give you a good talking to or wants to emphasize what he
is saying, but is just joking, he puts his arms akimbo as he talks. If he pushes the
joke too far, you also put your arms akimbo to indicate this. But then you are in
earnest and not joking.

One fellow is always joking with me. When he sees me, even at a distance, he
will put his arms akimbo as he comes toward me. Then when we meet he will
begin to tell me just what he thinks of me. I kid back at him. I say, "Get that
arm down!" and try to knock it down.

If a person is giving you a good talking to or a lot of unwelcome advice, you
might say, "All right, go ahead and talk!" and you put your arms akimbo to
show that the advice means nothing to you. Or if a person whose opinion you
hold to be of little worth suddenly begins to give you advice, you show your sur-
prise that he should talk that way to you by putting your arms akimbo. Then it
means, "You've got your nerve!"

If a person takes this posture unconsciously, it is said that he is putting on
airs or thinks himself great. This position is taken in imitation of someone who
thinks too well of himself.

An informant described how amazement would be shown:

One time I met C. on the street. "Well," he said, "what's the news?" "There
is no news," I told him. "As long as you fellows are satisfied under the govern-
ment, there is no news. We ought to be free." C. clapped his hand over his
mouth.

This story explains when the hand is put over the mouth. I know what C. was
thinking. He was thinking, "Oh, what a speech!" It is a sign of amazement used
when someone has done the unexpected and has taken you off your feet.

Another time several of us went to sheep camp. We were standing there with
our sheep herder. Finally we started to go away. The sheep herder came after us
and asked me, "Did you bring me any tobacco?" C. was supposed to take care of
this, so I turned to him and asked, "Did you remember the smokes for Chapo?"
He clapped his hand to his mouth and held it there a couple of minutes. What he
meant was, "By golly, I forgot it!" This illustrates another use of the hand over
the mouth.

There is a definite etiquette of visiting:

Suppose somebody is coming to my camp. When he is about fifteen feet
away from the door, he clears his throat or coughs loudly to attract attention and
let me know he is coming. If I am there with my wife and children, I say, "Here
I am. Come in." And when the man sits down politely, the children are already
in order. Of a person who walks right in without coughing, we say, "He is not
polite."

Guests usually sit near the door when they come in, although there is no
particular place for a visitor to sit. There are many people in there, so they sit

434 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

near the door most often because it is the most convenient and unoccupied place*
If there is a bed along one side of the home, a visitor doesn't sit there unless he is
called and told to.

When you have a visitor, you have to be very careful of how you act. In
passing in and out of the house, a person must not touch or press against another
person, especially against visitors and strangers. The visitor, in turn, must not
let the one who is passing touch him or press against him. To leave your home
when you have company is considered very impolite. If you have to leave, you
say, "I am going to walk there by you."

Great politeness is exercised in personal matters between visi-
tors and host:

Suppose there are a number of people in my home. We are all interested in
some conversation. I'm telling stories or something like that. Perhaps one of the
visitors wants to go out and relieve himself. He has to excuse himself. They will
know where he is going if he just walks off. So he says, "I have to go out and tend
to that horse," or, "I've got my horse hobbled at the foot of the hill over there
and I want to chase him toward the water. He hasn't had water all day." Some-
times he hasn't even got a horse there. And another fellow sitting there says, "I
have to see about my horse too." And he goes off. Or a person will say, "Well, I
have to tend to something!" just as if he suddenly remembered something.

The women make excuses too. They say, "Where have my little ones gone?
I'll have to see where they are." That's the way I was taught when I was a child,
to make some good excuse.

When two men know each other well, though, if the wife and children are not
at home, one will just say to the other, "I am going out."

When visitors are speaking — and, indeed, when any serious
discussion is taking place — it is a mark of good manners to indi-
cate attention and interest by murmurs of approval and interjec-
tions of encouragement:

If someone is talking in a social gathering or telling a story, to show that you
are interested and are a very polished person, you keep saying, "he, he" at in-
tervals. Or you might say "do' a" which is just like saying, "Indeed!" or "Yes,
yes, go on!" Women say it slower, "doya" and in a higher-pitched voice. You
hear the old people use it all the time.

During a speech by someone, to show that you approve, you nod your head
and break in on him, as whites would with applause, saying, "ao> ao" [the
affirmative expletive] or "Urn, urn."

HUMOR

When friends are together, teasing and bantering take place.
Misleading or exaggerated statements are followed by a wink "to

THE ROUND OF LIFE 435

show that the person is joking," or a gesture may take the place
of a wink:

The equivalent of a wink is to raise the right hand, palm forward, with first
and second ringers up and the thumb over the fourth finger. You say something
to a man which you mean only as a joke, like, "Your wife's coming." As he
looks, you raise your hand in this way and motion with it toward him for the
benefit of others, but, when he looks, you stop.

There are other ways to save face and turn the laugh on a
companion:

One way to cover up embarrassment is to stick out the tongue. If you ask a
man for something that you don't expect to get, you stick the tongue out when
others are looking, but when he doesn't see you. Then, if he turns you down, you
don't feel badly about it, for you have shown to the others that you are just
fooling anyway and expect to be refused.

Much of the humor is broad and falls under the caption of
practical joking. Putting plants that are irritating to the skin in
the bedding of an unsuspecting individual is of this nature. Of
one man, it was told: "H. is a great practical joker. You have to
watch out for him. He might throw a box in your path. His
father was like that, too, always playing practical jokes. You
never knew what he was going to do."

But most of the humor is verbal. A man who is considered to
be especially good company is described in these words by one of
his admirers:

He's about sixty years old. He's very funny. When he gets in a crowd, he
always keeps everyone laughing. He just takes the topic of the day or whatever
someone is talking about and sees the funny side of it. At the same time he is
talking sense. If you think about it, you can get something out of it too.

Imitations, especially of peculiar or foreign characters, are
much appreciated. One informant, himself adept at this art,
stated:

Some are very good at this. Some can imitate C. [an eccentric character], but
I can't. His voice is too high-pitched for me. In Oklahoma I used to imitate a
butler, just like I saw in the movies. I would make believe that I was waiting on
my father when he wasn't looking, and, when he looked again, I would stop. He
didn't know what my sister was laughing about.

Even the pun is not unknown. The term for "leader" is very
similar to the word that means "to shake the head." A braggart

436 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

who was telling a group about his ability as a leader was inter-
rupted by a hearer who, deliberately pretending to have mis-
understood, remarked, "Yes, we all know you can shake your
head pretty hard!"

Another story that points to the quality of the humor is an
account of nonchalance under trying circumstances. An old man
on horseback was attempting to pass a knot of his friends with
some show of dignity. Just then his horse bucked, threw him,
and ran ahead. Instead of waiting for the mirth of the beholders,
the man pulled out his tweezers the moment he hit the ground
and with great unconcern began plucking his whiskers.

PARTIES, DANCES, AND STORY-TELLING

The preparation of tiswin is almost always followed by a party
to which friends and neighbors of both sexes are invited, for the
beer is made in relatively large quantities and sours if it is not
used at once.

My first tiswin party came when I was about fourteen years old. It was dur-
ing the summer. A woman who was noted for the good tiswin she made told me
to tell my grandmother to come over that afternoon, for she had some tiswin.
She invited me too. I went right over to my grandmother and told her. I went
with her and attended that party. It was just a social occasion. I drank a lot and
got to feeling good. I was not used to it, but I didn't get sick. It lasted about two
hours.

They sit around and tell stories at these parties, laughing and talking. A man
with a bad temper could not get in. It is considered very impolite to come in to a
party without an invitation, but some get around this. They hate to miss it and
find some excuse for coming there. One cup is kept going. The woman who gives
the party does the dishing-out. A boy of about fourteen can attend. Usually a
girl has to be a little older. After this I attended tiswin parties whenever I could.

Social dancing and singing sometimes add to the pleasures of a
tiswin party. Even the women, when a certain point of gaiety is
reached, may elect to act as singers, though this is not their
customary role:

One time Mrs. S. and C.'s wife sang social dance songs. The men were all
played out. One got the drum and the other helped her. In the old days the
Chiricahua woman sometimes sang songs and used the drum too. They used to
do it for the round dance. They would get around in a bunch and sing and
drum.

THE ROUND OF LIFE 437

Social dancing is recreation which all can enjoy equally:

We do not speak of a good dancer when referring to the social dancing. One
person is not considered better than another at it. There is no chance to show off.
The only dances in which the individual can show ability are the war dance and
the masked dancing. Women cannot dance these. But people get real pleasure
out of dancing the social dances with someone they like.

To sing well for the social dance is a real distinction, however:

It seems to me that there are three different registers of singing found among
these Indians. My voice is low; N.'s is high. If I put my hand to the side of my
mouth, I can sing all night. But I can't last on the high ones.

The telling of myths provides another opportunity for those
who live in close proximity to gather. The expert raconteur is
highly regarded.

I was in the store the other day, and J. was in there talking to a group of men.
He was talking about the old times. He told about a man who used to be very
good at telling all kinds of stories. A group of men thought they would play a
joke on him. They all went over there and told him that he had to tell all the
stories he knew and that they were going to sit there and listen until he was
through. They were going to give him his fill of telling stories for once.

This fellow was quite a joker. He said, "All right!" and he started in. They
came there early in the evening. That man told stories all night and then kept on
during the day until about four o'clock in the afternoon. Everybody else was all
tired out, and he was still telling stories.

Another able story-teller, whose case is of special interest be-
cause his excellence as an entertainer evidently was his chief
claim upon the respect and good opinion of his fellows, is likewise
fondly remembered:

My father knew I. He couldn't fight; he was no account in war. But he was a
great joker and story-teller. All used to gather at his camp to hear him. The
old men laugh and talk about him yet. My father imitates him, using the left
hand, for I. was left-handed. It sure is funny to watch. I. thought quickly.
Even the old people surely liked him.

As a general rule the Chiricahua dodge around when they fight. Though I.
never fought, he'd talk like this: "When you're in a fight, don't dodge — you
might run into an arrow. Why do you fellows dodge around like that?"

He'd say things like this: "Do you see those hills? Those hills were small
when I came through there a little while ago. They must have grown since. Do
you see that mesquite tree? I was ceasing deer. Notice that limb. The horse
was going full speed for it. It looked as though I was going to get brushed off by
it. Then I jumped one way and the horse went the other. I landed on the back

438 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

of the horse again on the other side of the branch and we went on and killed the
deer I was chasing."

When he was telling stories, if anyone acted as though he were going to go, I.
would say, "Wait, we're going to cook something pretty soon." It might be noon
and there would be nothing to eat in the camp at all. But he'd ask his wife,
"Have you got anything to eat?" His wife was just as bad as he was. "Certain-
ly," she'd say. "In just a few minutes, I'll get it ready." It would never come.
After all of his stories he would turn to his wife and ask, "Now isn't that true?"
She'd answer, "Yes, that's true."

He had only one woman. No other would have anything to do with him. Yet
he would say, "When a woman gets angry with me, I go off. I don't cut her nose.
I don't beat my wife. I don't say anything. There is always another woman
ahead, I say."

I. once saved a large encampment, they claim. The children were thinking of
going swimming. Enemies were near. I.'s camp was out in the open on the side of
a hill. He called all the people, all men and boys, to listen to stories, and they all
came. While he was telling stories, he saw enemies in the distance coming toward
the camp. He saved them, every one. If he hadn't been telling his stories, the
children would have been in swimming. The white soldiers came, but the Apache
all got away.

Many times these sessions are arranged for the particular
benefit of the children, for it is an integral part of their education
to be properly versed in the tribal lore. Just as often no definite
plans are made in advance, but the older people drift from casual
conversation to a review of more traditional materials, and the
children gather around to listen.

Sometimes in the evening we would all gather over at my grandmother's
home. There would be my sister, my cousins, and myself. The old lady would
tell us Coyote stories. At other times some old men used to come over to my
uncle's place and tell each other stories of the old times. Then we children used
to come around and listen.

The long winter evenings are the most acceptable time for
story-telling. Indeed, certain myths and myth cycles, such as
the legend of the hidden-ball or "moccasin" game played for day-
light, and the Coyote trickster cycle, can be told only at night
and in cold weather, when the snake and the bear are not abroad.
The events and atmosphere of the evenings during which he
listened to Coyote stories have been recaptured in this vivid
account by an informant:

THE ROUND OF LIFE 439

It is not an easy task to learn these stories. You have to be patient when the
stories are being told. You have to listen very closely. You have to sit up at
night when it's very cold, no telling how long, sometimes all night. When a
funny story comes along, everybody is laughing. And at all other times you have
to listen very closely and be quiet. As much as I have sat up and listened to the
stories, I have to be reminded of some of them in order to get it correctly the way
I first heard it.

When Coyote stories are being told, there is generally a big crowd present.
The older people, before they told the Coyote stories, would say, "When you tell
these stories, they make you very sleepy." When you get sleepy, they wake you
up. They shake you or they tickle your nose with grass. I've been treated that
way. But, if someone just can't keep awake, they let him go to sleep.

Both old men and old women could tell the stories. It would be like this.
Some of these stories are very funny, and many times the boys of about fourteen
years of age would get together and go to some old man's home and say, "Tell us
Coyote stories."

But the Apache is very careful not to embarrass someone before whom he is
ashamed, even when he is telling Coyote stories. If he comes to one of the stories
that would embarrass anyone, he says, "I want to tell you, in case people who are
ashamed before each other are here, that I am going to tell some very funny
stories now." Of course, not every man will do this; it depends on the individual.
A man like C. doesn't care what he says. But I remember that most people
would be very careful at such times. Once my father was telling stories. My
brothers were there, and my sister and my wife and some other women. Pretty
soon he came to orte of these stories. One by one we men went out and went into
a shack next door. You probably noticed that just now I told my son-in-law to
go into the tent next door, build himself a fire, and stay there. I just don't want
him to hear me tell stories like that.3

When interested people, young or old, visit him to hear his
rendition of the myths and tales, it is an opportunity for the nar-
rator to display his hospitality as well as his abilities. He seldom
allows his guests to leave without offering them food:

One time at Fort Sill seven of us boys came to N. About ten o'clock he said,
"Make coffee for these boys. I don't know how long they'll stay. We'll have
lunch about midnight." So we stayed and had a big lunch. That's what they
used to do a long time ago, he said. N. knew the old ways. We stayed until three
or four in the morning listening to old stories.

3 No father-in-law avoidance is practiced in this case. Though the informant
is a Chiricahua, his son-in-law is a Lipan. The Lipan do not practice avoidance
of affinal relatives.

440 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

A really talented raconteur has at his command a seemingly
inexhaustible fund of stories. Of the host of the occasion men-
tioned above it was said with admiration: "N. began at sun-
down, He told Coyote stories all night. He never finished them
that night." For those who stay up all night to listen to him, the
narrator is expected to have some gift. By keeping the audience
up until dawn, he has "stolen the night" from them and owes
them amends:

The old-time Indians used to give you a big present if you stayed up all night
and listened to them tell stories. They used jto kill a cow or even give a horse or
saddle. I went over to C.'s place with my wife. We got tired and wanted to come
home about ten o'clock. C. said, "Why don't you stay all night and win some-
thing? We'll give you a big pan of pinon nuts." But we were too tired and came
home.

If the host does not have suitable presents on hand, he may
feel uneasy about keeping his audience too long:

A while back we were over at T.'s camp and the old man was telling stories.
We were willing to stay all night. But the old man stopped before the night was
over and said, *1 haven't got much here, and so I don't want to go too far. I'll
give you what I have." He brought out some things. I took a pocketful of
pinons and some tobacco and went home.

It is the story-teller's use of appropriate gestures, onomato-
poeia, and asides — in short, his gifts as actor and dramatist,
which lend luster to his reputation. In order to keep interest at a
high pitch, he does not hesitate to tease the less attentive mem-
bers of his audience:

Once the old man was telling the whole bunch of us Coyote stories.. It was
just the time when E. was having some trouble with his wife and his mother-in-
law. The old man thought he would have some fun with E. He made believe he
wasn't looking at E., but he was watching him out of the corner of his eye.
When he came to a part where Coyote has some trouble with his wife or mother-
in-law, if E. wasn't looking he'd motion toward him and say, 'T guess it's this
fellow." Everyone would laugh, and E. would look up. But by this time the old
man would be looking the other way and going on with his story as though
nothing had happened.

At first E. laughed too. He didn't know it was for him. But after a while he
got suspicious. He kept his eyes on the old man. Then he'd get tired or look
around, and just that quick the old man would do it again. E. was always just
too late to catch him at it.

THE ROUND OF LIFE 44i

Then they came to the story where Coyote tells his mother-in-law to put her
arm in the log after the rabbit because her arm is longer. Right there E. caught
him. He jumped up. He cursed and said, "You just talk about me all the time!"

The old man laughed. "What's the matter? Why do you get mad? Was it
you? Are you that Coyote?"

E. was so mad he walked out. The old man called after him, "You must have
been that Coyote."

It was surely funny to watch E. try to catch the old man at it. The old man
sat there whittling. Just as soon as E. looked away, he'd motion with two fingers
and say, "I guess it's this one," and when E. would look up, there the old man
would be, whittling away as before.

SMOKING

Smoking adds to the pleasure and relaxation when old tales
are recounted. Before the distribution of trader's supplies, to-
bacco was very scarce. Consequently, it was used mostly for cer-
emonial purposes and was looked upon as a^reat luxury on social
occasions. Boys were counseled not to smoke until after the
training period, and it was thought unbecoming for women under
middle age to use tobacco, except as ritual might demand it. The
source and use of the wild tobacco are described as follows:

Before the white man's tobacco came in, the Chiricahua found their tobacco
out in the woods or out in the Arizona plains. It grows in reddish soil. It is a low
plant, and you cannot find a great deal of it together. The plants have white and
yellow flowers and long narrow leaves, about four inches wide or less. It doesn't
grow everywhere but just in certain places, and it is therefore hard to get. We
pick it and let it dry out in the sun. Some sprinkle mescal juice on it and then let
it dry. This wild tobacco is milder than the present tobacco we get. Often this
tobacco is used with other plants. Sumac leaves are picked, dried, crushed, and
put with it, and sage is too.

The tobacco we found was called "big tobacco." It was used for social pur-
poses as well as for ceremony. It was passed around at private gatherings or at
story-telling. But it was not so common. You just saw it here and there, because
it was so scarce. Boys were not allowed to smoke, and just old women were al-
lowed to smoke. When we fought Mexicans we took their tobacco. When the
white man's tobacco first came in, it was pretty scarce. If you had a good horse,
you would give it for one cigarette of the white or Mexican kind.

In the old way, when the tobacco is ready, they crumble it up. They use the
leaf of the oak for a cigarette paper. They take the fresh leaf in summer, but
sometimes they carry them in a bundle, one on top of the other. Every now and
then they wet the leaves to keep them in shape. And they get cornhusks that
they use. Many times I've seen old men sitting on the sunny side of the camps

442 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

peeling cornhusks. They carry these in a bundle too. Even cornhusks were hard
to get in those days.

To illustrate the value and scarcity of tobacco before reserva-
tion days, the following story was given with this introduction :
"Someone told this at the store, and I heard one of the young
fellows say, 'Oh, that's nothing but a lie!' But I can believe it,
for I know how scarce tobacco was in those days."

Tobacco was very, very valuable in the old days. Just enough to make one
cigarette was worth a horse, and horses were very, very valuable, too, then. Two
old men were camped near each other. One had some tobacco and the other had
none. The man who had no tobacco came over to the place where his friend was
smoking. He sat there watching him smoke and hoping he would offer him some,
but he did not. Then he hoped he would get the butt out of it, but he knew that
this fellow smoked his cigarettes right down to the end. He was getting more and
more eager for some, yet he hated to ask right out.

Finally, the one who was smoking said, "Well, it is late. I guess I'll go to sleep
after this smoke." The man who had no tobacco could not hold himself in any
more. He said, "Friend, give me just one puff of that cigarette before you finish
it and I'll take it back to my camp, holding my breath, and I'll inhale it when I
get over there in bed." And he did that. He held that smoke in his mouth until
he got over in his camp and then he inhaled it, making noises showing his relief.

Tobacco is smoked in a small tubular clay pipe as well as in
cigarettes. Men usually make these pipes, though women occa-
sionally make them too. They are four or five inches long and
cone shaped, tapering from the front to the end which is held in
the mouth. To make these pipes, a thin coat of clay of the right
consistency is spread over a wooden mold and is allowed to be-
come partially dry before removal. Smoking completes the dry-
ing process. When the pipe is freshly filled with tobacco, it must
be tilted upward to prevent the burning embers from falling out,
but after it has been smoked for some time this is unnecessary.
These pipes are never designed. Evidently they were never very
common or numerous. "Some make pipes out of clay. But very
few do this. These Chiricahua Indians never bother much about
pipes. If they get hold of a cigarette, they smoke it, but they
don't have many pipes."

A tubular pipe drawn by a Southern Chiricahua informant has
a short projection or handle on the underside near the stem end.

THE ROUND OF LIFE 443

All other illustrations secured lack this feature, however. A small
pipe cut with a knife from soft limestone was described by an-
other informant. Since this pipe resembles the modern American
pipe and must be made with a metal knife, it is probably a more
recent type. As a less durable approximation to the tubular
clay pipe, blades of the broad-leafed yucca are rolled into the
same shape and are used as long as they last. One informant said
that he has also seen a length of reed filled with tobacco and
smoked.

SPORTS AND GAMES OF ADULTS

Games and sports comprise much of adult recreation. The
various arrow games already described in the section on chil-
dren's pastimes — shooting for distance or for accuracy, sliding
arrows, and the play which has been likened to blind man's
buff — are popular with grownups as well. Men also play the
bone or "heads and tails" game and the marble games.4

Competitions in tug-of-war and wrestling are frequently ar-
ranged. A variant of the usual tug-of-war is to fasten a rawhide
rope around the waist of a very strong man. Three others hold
the free end of the rope, along which knots have been tied to
afford them a grip. The man to whom the rope is fastened is
further handicapped by having a fourth member of the opposi-
tion attempt to hold him down. If he manages to arise, never-
theless, and to drag forward the three who are bracing them-
selves at the other end of the rope, he is the winner.

Keen interest is manifested in wrestling:

We wrestle a great deal. Some men are expert and are just like professionals.
They even wrestle with men from other tribes who come here. Big sums are bet.
The wrestlers start by holding each other around the middle. After they begin,
tripping, twisting the arm, or anything is allowed. When one man is under the
other, it ends. It doesn't matter which part of his body touches, as long as one
man is off his feet and the other man is on top. Sometimes it lasts for hours.

Most contests of chance and skill involve gambling, and it
behooves anyone who wagers seriously to have his luck cere-
monially safeguarded:

< See pp. 50-53.

444 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

There is a ceremony for luck in games and gambling, for luck in the hoop-and-
pole game, for foot-racing and other games. When a person has a ceremony for
any of these, he is usually a "professional." He depends on it to win big stakes.
Ceremonies like these are among the most secret ones, for a man doesn't want
others to know too much about it and spoil his luck. You can get a man to talk
about anything but this and witching usually.

Ceremonies for luck are mostly in connection with racing, the hoop-and-pole
game, stave games, and the moccasin game, for these are the big betting games.
Singing or ceremony for luck is not carried on for the ball game or shinny. They
aren't betting games but are more for exercise, although, of course, people bet
on them too.

Foot races in which both men and women participate, con-
stantly occur:

We have races for short distances in which women as well as men run. Some-
times the women beat the men. Somebody paces off the race course. Instead of
measuring by yards he uses steps. Two steps are like a yard; each time the right
foot comes forward the man counts one. The track is one hundred of these
"yards" long.*

During the race the runners are timed by counting. Old men sit at the finish
line counting as the runners race. Each runner has someone counting for him. I
saw two of the best runners race when I was a boy. The old man only counted to
eleven, and the winner was over the finish line.

At the start of the race they don't crouch. They stand braced. The man who
is starting them might say, "I'm going to count. When I say 'two,' go!" Or two
men might walk toward the runners with a string or a stick. When the runner is
touched, he starts off. When we are camping in a place where we are going to
stay for a time, we would make a track. We clear a path. This is used for horse-
racing too. Cross-country foot races take place once in a while also.

Horse-racing and the ceremonialism associated with it are dis-
cussed by an informant:

Horse races are generally started with a gun or by shouting, "Now!" Some
horses would be back of the line facing the other way; some would be on the line

5 Another unit of measure, "one stick," was described by an informant: "We
measure by saying 'one stick.' This is the distance from the middle of the chest
to the end of the outstretched middle finger. Both arms outspread equals 'two
sticks.' Later these were called yards. A step of the right length was called 'one
stick' too. Later ioo steps were considered ioo yards. In buying a yard of cloth
now we are really asking for 'the length of one stick.' The actual length of the
foot is used as a unit of measure too. To measure height you take a rope or stick
and measure the person; then you put it down on the ground and measure off the
feet."

Note that at least two attempts have been made to equate aboriginal units of
measure with the American "yard."

THE ROUND OF LIFE 445

facing forward. Most face the line, but some are trained the other way. We ride
them bareback. Women do not ride against men, but they do race among them-
selves. There are cross-country horse races too. It takes one day's travel to
cover the course.

Some sing for their horses. This is done at home before the race. Let us say a
man's horse is going to run tomorrow. He is going to bet heavily on it. Then he
will sing for the horse so it will win. Not everybody knows such a ceremony, but
some know the songs. If you don't know songs, you might pay a person to sing
for your horse. The same thing is done for runners in the foot races.

Shinny is one of the roughest and most taxing of the games:

To play shinny you have to have a stick about three and a half feet long which
is hooked at one end. It is usually made of oak wood and the curved part is the
root. The one who is making it heats it and ties it around at one end and lets it
stay tied for a day or overnight, if it has been made in the evening. The next day
it will be curved and will stay that way. Some players carry a second stick, a
straight one, too, when they play. The straight stick is used for protection. It is
used to ward off the other fellow's stick. Some play without this second stick
though.

They usually knock off a piece of round wood for the ball. It is about half the
size of a baseball when it is finished. Sometimes a buckskin ball of the same size
is used. Any number can play on a side. Usually there are from five to twelve on
a side. But there has to be the same number on each side.

A flat place a half-mile long or less is chosen. When there are ten or twelve on
a side, they use a longer distance. The width does not matter except at the goal.
But at the goal the ball has to go between two objects, usually trees, to count.
This is true for both sides.

In starting the game they all march out into the center of the field. They just
guess at the center. The two leaders meet in the center and hook their sticks
like two boxers touching gloves. They spit on something flat and throw it
up, and one of them calls, "Wet," or "Dry." The one who wins out on this
can choose the side his team will play on. Each side scatters out and faces the
other's goal.

The two leaders tell their men to get ready. They decide which of them is
going to throw the ball high in the air between them. Or another fellow is there
to throw it up. Players from the same side can be on both sides of the center to
start, so that if their leader misses the ball at first and the other leader hits it,
they can get possession of it.

When the ball goes up, the two in the center can hit it in the air as it is on its
way down or wait until it strikes the ground. But it has to be hit with the stick.
If I am one of these leaders and think that the other fellow will miss it in the air, I
wait until he has swung and is off balance, and then I hit it from the ground to
one of my men.

Once the ball is in play, they can advance it by kicking it or by hitting it with

446 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

the stick, but they can't hit it with the hands. They try to hit it toward the other
side's goal, and drive it across. They hit the ball any way, in the air or on the
ground. Every time a goal is made it counts one.

The best runners always play this game. If they get away with the ball, it's a
goner. Some get hit in the shins by mistake. There are no fouls. They try to hit
each other's sticks when trying for the ball. They play until they get tired. They
play that game all morning; sometimes all afternoon. Men thirty or forty years
old played this game when I was a little boy. When I was just a little boy, I saw
middle-aged men play this game and the ball game. Women played these games
too. Some young women can outrun men. There were dangers in those days,
and the women had to exercise so they could stand anything.

A popular game is one called "throwing objects in a hole."
Two holes, each with an opening a little larger than the stones
used, are dug, one at either end of a playing field about thirty
paces long. Each player has two disk-shaped stones with which
he throws for a hole. The stone nearest the hole earns its thrower
a point. Should the two stones nearest the hole belong to the
same player, he earns two points; otherwise only the nearest
stone counts. To place a stone in the hole wins four points. If
the player gets both stones in the hole, he scores ten. When two
men each get a stone in the hole, neither counts. A third stone in
the hole earns the thrower the usual four, however, and a fourth
stone in the hole displaces the third, counting four instead of it.
The contestants throw first for one hole and then for the other.
The player to amass twelve points first is the winner.

The ball game, called "they who run" or "they slap the ball,"
has been mentioned briefly in connection with the play of chil-
dren. But it is a game which adults enjoy as well.

If you want to see a really interesting game, you should see this ball game.
There are two sides and each side has a captain. Each captain chooses four or
more good, fast men. The ball must be made of buckskin stuffed with soft mate-
rial, and it is about half the size of the baseball Americans use.

The players meet on the field and examine the ball to see if it is suitable to hit
a person with. They mark out a big circle with a stick. This is called "he has
come back" because a person is always trying to get back to it. It's like the home
plate in American baseball. They are going to have three other rings, arranged
something like the bases of the baseball field. They step the distance out to the
first of these. It might be fifty or seventy paces away. They are not particular as
to the distance. They make it the same distance to the second of these circles,
and the same to the third. They are all the same distance apart. But these last

THE ROUND OF LIFE 447

three rings are not so big as the first one; they are just big enough for four or five
men to stand in. The first of these smaller circles is called "where one stops
first." The second is "one usually goes here second" and the third we call "one
usually goes here third."

Suppose I am head of my team. We pick up a piece of flat rock and spit on
one side of it. The other captain says, "You toss it. Which side do you want?" I
take the dry side. Then the ball is rolled slowly between the two sides. At the
same time the rock is thrown up. We watch to see whether the dry side comes up.
If it does, all on my side run for the big circle, and the other side run to get the
ball and try to hit one of us with it before we get in. If they do that, they will get
in the circle first. If the rock turns up wet, they are the ones to run for the circle,
and we try to hit one of them before he makes it.

Now my side is in. The head of the other side will talk to his men and place
them out. The pitcher is very careful. If one of my men is outside the ring or
partly outside it he can hit him with the ball.

The pitcher must stand before the ring. He must throw the ball underhand.
The ball must be hit with the open hand. Some catch and throw the ball at the
same time when batting, but this is a violation of the rule. Some do it so quickly
you can't catch them at it. To count, the ball has to go forward.

I am the first man to hit it, say. I try to place the ball so that I can get to the
first circle before getting hit. If I get hit by a man on the other side who picks it
up and throws it at me before I get to the first circle, as soon as I'm hit I run for
the ball. My team, as soon as they see me get hit, run out and try to help me.
The other team, as soon as I am hit, run for the big circle. If I or one of my men
gets the ball and hits one of them before he gets in the circle, my side is still in and
can keep on batting.

If I hit it up high in the air and a fellow on the other team gets under it before
it hits the ground, he can hit it away, and all on his side run for the big circle. It's
just like catching a fly in American baseball; it puts my side out if they get to the
circle safely.

But, if I hit it and make the first little circle, my second man is up. The
pitcher watches me and tries to hit me when 1 am out of the circle. If my man
hits it and someone on the other side standing near the circle where I am gets it, I
do not have to run. More than one can get in one circle. So I stay there and do
not take chances.

If we all get in the first little circle, the pitcher stands there and throws the
ball straight up in the air, giving us a chance to run. We say, "Throw it up! You
don't throw it high enough." So he throws it higher, and we run. He catches it
and throws after us. Sometimes you make a couple of circles on a pitcher that
way.

We play the game all afternoon, as long as we want to. We can stop any time.
We keep track of the number of "runs" each side makes. One side puts marks on
one side of the big ring, one on the other. If we all come in in a bunch, we each
make a mark on our side. Sometimes fast girls mixed with boys to play this

448 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

game. Lots of times they don't care about the score or the winner, but just try-
to stay in and hit the ball. This is just a pleasure game, not a gambling game,
though a few might bet on it. This is a real old game. Old men seventy years old
and older say it was played before their time.

The most important game which the men play is hoop-and-
pole. It can be played only during the daytime. The equipment
and the ceremonialism involved in its preparation have been de-
scribed thus:

Different men make hoop-and-pole outfits, and they make them in different
ways according to their ceremonies. But the hoop and the poles look the same no
matter who makes them. If someone makes a hoop with the wrong number of
"beads" on it, it is not any good. And the poles have to be exactly the same
length.

The pole is sometimes made out of four pieces of wood bound together with
sinew; sometimes out of three pieces.

Some men are well informed on the ceremony of the hoop-and-pole game.
They are the ones who make the sets. They are the ones who play all the time and
who are considered to have the best luck at it. They are always good players.
They have the hoop-and-pole game songs. They do not sing these songs on the
playing ground, but, if they are going to play on a certain day, they sing the
night before. They go ahead and talk to the hoop and everything.

My father knows songs for this, but his voice is no good any more. I didn't
learn them because my father said, "It's no good to learn one or two of these
songs. If you mean it, you've got to really study it. You've got to learn all of
them, and they take a long time. One or two might harm you; they might even
kill you."

The right to these songs and this ceremony, which goes with the rite to make
the set, is handed down. Just certain people know about these things. It is
dangerous for others to try to make a hoop-and-pole set or to sing for their luck,
though any man can play the game and gamble on it.

The manner in which the hoop-and-pole ground is arranged
and the game is played is given in this summary:

This game of hoop-and-pole is very important and must be played on aground
arranged in a certain way. You have to have a grass bed about thirty feet long
for it. There must be a rock right in the middle and one at each end to show the
boundaries of the field. The field is covered with something real slippery, like
pine needles, so the hoop will roll. The ground must stretch just one way, with
the long way running east and west. At each end of the field there are ridges of
grass. These lanes are called "that against which the pole is repeatedly thrown."
They act as a guide to the distance the hoop should roll before the players slide
the poles after it. The hoop can be rolled through these lanes or outside of them.

THE ROUND OF LIFE 449

Only two play against each other at a time. When they start to play, one
takes the hoop, and they walk to the center. Each man is holding his pole. These
poles are long, almost as long as the playing field. One of the poles is colored red
at the butt end. The one with the hoop rolls it toward the grass ridges, using an
underhand morion. When the hoop is about to fail over, the men slide their poles
after it. Each wants the butt of his pole to fall under the hoop. The butt of the
pole is notched and marked, and each notched part which shows up under the
hoop counts so much. The hoop is notched too, and it also has a knotted string
tied across the middle. We call these knots "beads"; the biggest knot is in the
middle.6 You make something, too, according to the notches or the "beads"
which cross the pole. All these notches have names. You agree on how much
they should count before the game begins, and you agree how many points are
needed to win.

The two men play from the center, first to the east, and then to the west.
Only the winning throw is counted each time, and only one score, that of the man
who is ahead, is kept. What he gets is added to his score and what the other
fellow gets is subtracted from it. Men gamble a great deal on this game. 7

In a real game of this kind you are not allowed to cross the playing field from
the east while anyone is throwing. That's the rule. I don't know why it is, but
they play it like that. And they don't allow any dog near the grounds where they
are playing hoop-and-pole. Also it is strictly forbidden any girl or woman to go
anywhere near the hoop-and-pole ground. Any woman who comes around will
get swollen joints and pains in her legs. And it would sort of paralyze her, The
women never come near the place; they go a long way to avoid it. If a woman
even comes in sight, the men straighten up and hold the pole up straight until
she passes out of sight. Women and children know where the ground is and keep
away from it. There are a good many things to remember in this game. A man
who is playing doesn't like anyone to step on his shadow. It makes him lose his
luck.

Little material is forthcoming concerning the origin and
mythological background of the game, but the words of one in-
formant suggest an association between the pole and the snake:8

6 One informant claims that there should be 50 "beads" on each side of the
big "bead," making a total of 101. Another described a hoop which had 30
"beads" on each side of the big "bead." Evidently there are minor variations in
the "ways" of the hoop-and-pole makers.

7 When the trickster Coyote loses all his possessions in a gambling game, it is,
characteristically, the hoop-and-pole game he is said to have been playing.

8 When M. R. Harrington purchased a hoop-and-pole set from its Chiricahua
maker in 1909, he was told: "The red paint on the wheel and on one pole repre-
sents a snake. Two men were arguing as to who had the strongest supernatural
power. Finally, one took a snake and made a hoop of it to show his power. Not
to be outdone, the other took a snake and transformed it into a pole. Then, as

45© AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The hoop-and-pole game was handed down from the animals when they were
people. They used to play it. The hoop-and-pole game comes from the four-
footed animals like the bear [i.e., the dangerous ones] and also from the snake.
During the time the snakes were people they made the game. In ceremonies the
pole is referred to as a snake. This is done in the snake ceremony.

The hoop-and-pole ground is as much a meeting place where
masculine concerns are discussed and planned as it is a field of
play. Here the men come together in easy companionship, free
of the inhibitions imposed by the presence of women. It is little
wonder that one commentator declared, "The hoop-and-pole
ground is like a pool hall." An air of informality and good humor
pervades the scene, and much jesting and story-telling are al-
ways in progress.

Often musical instruments, such as the musical bow, are
played at this spot:

There is something we do around the hoop-and-pole game. A man takes a bow,
just the regular fighting bow, and tightens it up. He puts one end in his mouth
and hits the string with an arrow. Men enjoy doing this and are interested in it.
They can make a sound like Chiricahua songs. A man can do this anywhere, but
you see it mostly at the hoop-and-pole ground when the men are by themselves
and enjoying themselves.

Another musical instrument, made and played by men, is fre-
quently seen at the hoop-and-pole ground, although it is not
limited in use to this place. This is the "wood that sings" or the
Apache fiddle,9 a hollow wooden cylinder about twelve to eight-
een inches long with one sinew string stretched over its surface.
The bow is approximately the same length and is strung with
horsehair. A single peg controls the tension and pitch of the

the point was not yet decided, they devised this game and played, but still
neither could win, for their power w,as equally strong. The people took it up and
still play it, but consider it sacred."

Two other informants who were consulted, however, claimed to know nothing
about a relation between the game and its parts and the snake.

9 It is certain that these "violins" are modeled after stringed instruments in-
troduced into the region by Europeans, but they have been made by the men of
this tribe for some time now. One of the oldest members, a skilful maker of these
instruments, stated: "We made it from the oldest times. I think it was the
Chiricahua's own invention because it was common in my boyhood."

THE ROUND OF LIFE 451

string, and the top of the body is perforated by a number of
triangular or diamond-shaped sound holes, usually two opposite
the peg and four or more at the other end of the instrument.
The surface is ordinarily decorated with painted designs of tribal
art pattern (stars, sun symbols, serrated lines, etc.), but, in addi-
tion, a scroll-like figure and floral motifs appear. Of the method
of manufacture^, this account is given:

I use 'any dead tree from which to make it. A good tree to use is the walnut.
An older piece of wood makes a better tone. One end is usually a little wider than
the other. The limb chosen should be a little longer than you want the fiddle to
be. After cutting the limb off, I split it down the middle. Then I scrape out the
inside of each piece with a knife. It is quite a job to scrape out these inside holes.
Then I cut little holes [the sound holes] along the margin where the two pieces are
going to meet on top. Now I scrape the outside and put on the decorations.
There is no particular meaning to the designs I put on. Then I tie it together
with deer sinew.

For the bow I use sumac wood. I warm the wood and bend it into place. I
use horsehair from the tail for the bow. I used to make many of these for the
soldiers. You play this as though you are using words and sing social dance
songs as you play it. I used to go around here playing it and singing. I used to
play songs in the store for the men on winter days not long ago when my voice
was better.

Women are likely to be as engrossed in the stave game as men
are in hoop-and-pole. Men occasionally join women to play it,
but it is understood to be a woman's pastime.

This is really a woman's game as I understand it. I say this because it's a
light game, a pastime for women. Women can't get out there and play with
arrows like men. A few do, but not many. So the women play this while the
men do other things.

Any man who plays this all the time is laughed at. But men play it once in a
while, all right. I have seen men and women mix up and play it, play partners.
Some fall in love this way. Mostly a bunch of women were playing it alone.

Not everybody can make the outfit. A person has to know how. There is
power connected with it. A certain woman or man has to make the sticks and
place the stones. Those who make them give these sticks to other people. The
one who gives you the sticks tells you what to do so you'll have luck with this
game. Some have songs they sing before a big betting game. When two sides are
playing against each other, there is great excitement. Everyone wants to be the
one to threw the sticks for his side. Valuable property (like mescal and horses) is
bet. I never saw this played during the night, though I never heard that it
couldn't be played then.

452 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

The equipment and method of play are described thus:

Round sticks are split and three six- to eight-inch lengths, round on one side
and flat on the other, are selected- They can be painted black on the flat side,
or a black or red stripe is put on instead. The round side is painted yellow or
white.

On the ground they put forty small stones. They put down ten stones, leave
a space, put down ten more, leave a space, and so on until the forty are arranged
in a circle. The four spaces are called rivers, and there is one for each of the four
directions. In the middle of this circle is^a big square rock, usually (but not al-
ways) colored black on top. Each player, or a representative for each side, has a
small stick to lay between the stones as a marker.

The player throws the three sticks on end against the center rock so that they
bounce off. This player then moves his marker stick according to the score he
has made. If the three flat surfaces are down, it counts ten. If they are all up, he
makes five. One flat up counts one or two, according to what has been decided,10
and two flat up usually counts three.

The players start from the east. If just two are playing against each other, one
moves around in one direction, and one in the other. This is done if many people
are playing and betting, but there are just two sides. If four are playing partners
and there are two on a side, two partners go around one way, and two the other.
But if a number are playing for themselves, they all go around the same way,
sunwise. The idea is to get your marker stick around the circle first.

A person who makes ten gets another turn. Whoever gets into the water
(whose marker falls on one of the big spaces at the directions) has to go back to
the beginning. Also, if your marker falls in the same space as that of someone who
is playing against you (not your partner), you pull out his stick and throw it to
the beginning, and that person has to begin over.

There is a game like this played with four staves. The fourth one is longer
than the others. The scoring is different for this game.

A third stave game, played without the circle of stones, was
mentioned by one informant. Three staves, each uncolored on
one side and painted white, black, and yellow, respectively, on
the other, and one longer stave, black on both sides, are used.
These are thrown on a rock four inches in radius. The object is
to make the long black stave remain on the rock and to have the

10 Many variations occur as a result of agreements before play starts. "Some-
times we play that a person has to go back to the beginning if he gets in the river,
but we might agree not to do this. The way some play it, your partner, if he
gets to the same place you are, throws you into the river ahead. And some
make the rule that, if your opponent falls at the same place you are, if you are
past the first river, you have to go back to the last river you passed, instead of
to the beginning."

THE ROUND OF LIFE 453

painted sides of the other staves fall uppermost. If the long stave
crosses the center of the rock, it counts one hundred; if it stays on
the rock but is at either side of the center, it is worth but fifty.
Of the other staves, the yellow one counts twelve points if the
painted side shows, six if the unpainted surface is up. The others
earn an agreed amount if the painted surfaces face upward, but
score nothing if the plain surfaces show. This game can be played
by men or women but, like the others, is most often played by
the women.

More tradition, song, and ceremony center around the moc-
casin game than about any other form of adult recreation. It is
the only game with which a major myth is connected; it was the
game played in the beginning of the world at the Mogollon
Mountains when the birds were pitted against the four-footed
animals and monsters to determine whether there should be day-
light. The manner in which the game is conducted now is in-
tended to be a faithful duplication of that first contest.

The moccasin game is played only in the winter and only at night, until day-
break. If they play beyond daybreak, they have to paint their faces black. The
story of the first moccasin game is told just at night and in winter. They say, "If
you tell this story in summer, you will see bad animals like the rattlesnake."
You have to be careful about the songs of the game too. You can't sing them in
the summertime, for a snake will bite you if you do. In the wintertime you can
sing them in the day or at night. In the winter there are no snakes around; that's
why.

Even snow has a song in the moccasin game. The people don't like to hear the
snow song before the real cold weather. It brings snow, they think. They got
after me because I sang it the other day.

Men and women join to make an exciting occasion of the
game. Arrangements for playing it are informal. "If I wanted to
have that game tonight, I'd say to someone, 'Let's play the moc-
casin game tonight.' I'd get my friends, and he'd get his. Each
man wants to have good singers."

To play the game the members of the two teams gather and
face each other on opposite sides of a fire that has been kindled at
a level place. Each of the groups arranges a row of four "moc-
casins" in which the bone is to be hidden. "We usually do not
use real moccasins for this game but just make four holes. After

454 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

the bone is hidden in one of these, they are all filled at the top
with grass." Often cylindrical sacks made of hide (later of cloth)
serve as moccasins.

The rounded section of bone from the hip or knee of an animal
is hidden. It is often blackened by being thrown into the fire be-
fore the start of the game. The other things required are a robe
or blanket to be held up by those hiding the bone, a stick with
which the person delegated to find the bone strikes the moccasin in
which he thinks it has been placed, and counters which each side
is trying to obtain. The stick is about two feet long and often is
incised with carvings representative of birds which took part in
the legendary game, such as the road runner and the turkey.
The counters are strips of yucca leaf, six to eight inches long.
Usually there are sixty-eight of them, worth a point total of one
hundred and four. Sixty-four of the counters are plain and count
one each; four of them are fringed at the end and are each valued
at ten.

To determine which side shall hide the bone first, a bone or a

stone which has been moistened on one side is thrown between

two of the opposing players, and one calls "Wet" or "Dry." The

side which wins this trial now orders the blanket raised, and one

of its members hides the bone, while the others sing.

When they play the game, they sing the songs which the birds and animals
who played it first sang about themselves. And the moccasins and the bone, too
— each has a song about itself. These are the first ones sung. These songs are
sung during the playing. The side hiding the bone sings while the hiding is going
on and while the one who guesses for the other side is trying to make up his mind
about which moccasin to strike. They sing loudly and try to confuse him in
every way, but no drum is used. If a side is lucky with a song and the others are
guessing wrong, they keep on singing that same one until the bone is taken away
from them.

During the singing, members of the group dance in place.

When the bone is concealed, the hider calls, "Ready," and the
robe is removed. A representative of the opposition comes for-
ward to strike with his stick. If he hits the correct moccasin, he
wins the bone for his side without any gain in counters for the
other side. If, however, he strikes a moccasin to either side of the
one in which the bone actually lies, four counters are taken from

THE ROUND OF LIFE 455

the central bundle and handed to the hider. And, if he strikes a
moccasin two or more removes from the right one, the side of the
hider gains ten plain or one fringed counter. Those who are hid-
ing the bone keep it until a correct guess takes it away from
them. Then the roles are reversed, and the opposition does the
singing and hiding until it, too, must give up the bone.

As the game progresses, the players present, in character, the
songs of the many beings of the mythic account. The song of a
small bird is given in falsetto, while that of the slow-witted,
lumbering giant is intoned in a gruff voice. These songs are often
chosen with reference to situations in the current game that
parallel events in the game of tradition. When one side is lag-
ging, a song may be selected which was used to good advantage
by the birds of the original game at a moment when defeat for
them seemed imminent. This characterization and interweaving
of mythological knowledge add interest to the game, and the
fever of rejoicing and disappointment is maintained by lively
betting, both on the final outcome and upon the individual plays.

When all the counters have been distributed to one side or the
other, the losing side must pay the winner from its own store.
When one side has taken from the other all its counters, it has
won the game.

What has been described is the orthodox mode of play. But,
as the game is sometimes played, a person who has unsuccess-
fully struck one of the moccasins, may be offered, or may request,
another turn without a rehiding of the bone. If he succeeds this
time, he wins the bone for his side and does not have to pay
counters for the first wrong guess. Should he fail this second
time, he pays heavily. In another variation, one who is guessing
may elect to poke the moccasin instead of striking it. By this he
signifies that he is trying not to select but to avoid the moccasin
in which the bone lies. If he pokes three moccasins without re-
sult, he has found the bone by a process of elimination and ob-
tains it for his side. In still another variation, a player may reach
into the moccasin with his hand instead of striking or poking it
with the stick. The hider may be allowed to conceal the bone on
his person instead of in one of the moccasins: ^

456 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Sometimes the one who is hiding the bone does not put it in a moccasin but
under his arm* When he does this, it doesn't count against the other side if they
fail to guess where it Is. The hider is doing this just so his luck will come back to
him. He does it wh§n the other side has been getting the bone too easily, But if
someone on the other side thinks you have got it hidden on you, instead of strik-
ing, the one who is guessing for the other side says, "You have it," Then you
have to hand it over to him if he's right; your side loses the bone.

Another manner of play is to penalize upon discovery the one
who conceals the bone in this way. "If a player, instead of hiding
the bone in a moccasin, conceals it on his person, he will, if dis-
covered, lose ten points for every move made by the opposing
side before the discovery of the trick."

The moccasin game has given rise to several less elaborate
forms of play of the same general character and bearing the same
name:

When a few get together, we sometimes play with four heaps of sand and a
marble. We follow the same way of counting as in the moccasin game, and we call
this a moccasin game, too.

Then there is one game where a marble is hidden in one hand or the other, and
the other feUow has to guess where it is. We don't keep moving our hands around
when we are playing this. We just hide it and let the other side guess.

They also play a game in which a small stick is hidden behind one of the four
fingers of the hand. All these are called moccasin games.

INVECTIVE

A curse is a grave affront because of the acknowledged po-
tency of verbalism. The general respect for the efHcacy of words
has its roots in traditions of the early period of mankind's
existence:

"At this time, anything that they said occurred in exactly that way. Any-
thing of which one said: *It is to happen so,' happened in just that way. For
that reason one did not say just anything to someone. If one spoke in that way to

someone one hated, it happened in exactly that way They spoke only in a

very good way."11

After the flood there were many, many Indians [Chiricahua]. These Indians
were very religious. They were careful how they used their language. They
wouldn't ever dare to say, "1 wish that dog would bite you," or, "I wish that
coyote would get you." They wouldn't ever dare say things like that. They
were afraid to tell lies.

11 Hoijer, Chiricahua and Me scaler o Apache Texts , p. 18.

THE ROUND OF LIFE 457

This fear of the expression of evil wishes is an aspect of the
belief that what is fervently voiced, for good or for evil, is likely
to occur. It is a conception which gives point alike to the faith in
the "good words" of ceremonialism and to the dread of "witch
talk."

Invective is graduated from those exclamations and phrases
which arouse mild resentment to those which are considered un-
forgivable insults. Rather innocuous, and directed as often at a
situation as at a person, is an inexplicable cry of frustration,
"Knife and awl!" "You're no good!" is likely to bring a more
positive reaction if it is directed at a person. It is a stinging re-
buke and challenge to be told, "You're no man!" Quite as in-
sulting is it to tell a person, "You are trashy!" or, "Even though
you are trashy, you ought to try to restrain yourself." Serious
imprecations which rankle and are keenly resented have to do
with death wishes and the underworld. "May an enemy [white
man] kill you !" is one of these. The most common of this type is
the malediction, "Go to the underworld!" "When some people
get angry, they say, 'Go to the underworld!' It's just like telling
a person to go to hell. That kind of talk is very bad and strong.
People get killed for saying such a thing. You are considered to
have a witch mouth if you talk like this."

Other curses have sexual or scatological implications: "A bad
word is one that means 'your excrement!' If you use it to any-
one, it will surely make him furious, and he might kill you for it."
An incitant to physical violence is the threat, "I'll squeeze you so
hard that I'll make your excrement move out!" An abusive
phrase which was described as "the dirtiest cuss word in the
Chiricahua language" inelegantly labels one's parents witches:
"You for whom the witches copulated!"

But, in the eyes of many, the gravest insult is a combined
curse and gesture, the ultimate in indignant response of a very
angry woman:

If a woman gets very angry at anyone, she will double up her right fist with
the palm up, put her thumb between the first and second fingers, and then open
the fingers suddenly in the direction of another person, saying at the same time,
"Smell this!" A man dreads this! It's just like shooting a man. It shows con-
tempt. The word refers to her vagina.

458 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

But men, too, use this gesture and the same expression upon
occasion, and it is still more vitriolic if one man levels it at
another:

At Fort Sill in 1910 one man was swearing at another in every way. The
other man said nothing that night. The next morning he came up to the one who
had cursed him. He was making the woman's gesture of contempt. He said,
"You spoke bravely last night. Now let's see what you can do."

They fought. The one who had started the trouble the night before went
down. The one on top took dirt and sticks and grass and hit him on the mouth
with them saying, "Now you won't use such bad language perhaps!"

When a person is goaded to action by insult or abuse, there is
an exclamation that warns of the attack to come:

There is an expression of rage, "ahagahe!" It means that a man has stood for
as much as he is going to. When you hear that, you know that the man is going
for his weapon and will fight it out. The word has no literal meaning.

In keeping with their assertions concerning the greater peev-
ishness of women in comparison to men, a number of male in-
formants have insisted that women are quicker to make use of
these inflamatory phrases:

As a general rule in the old days, Chiricahua men didn't curse. The women
did most of the cursing. There were very few bad words. Then if you said, "You
coyote!" or "Your excrement!" that was very, very bad. Cursing was brought
in by the white people. Now the woman doesn't talk that way, and the man
does. A big change, isn't it!

ANTISOCIAL CONDUCT

In the eyes of his fellows the moral person is one who heeds the
social conventions and discharges his obligations in obedience to
the tribal ethic.

Ceremonies for curing are religious. But these have nothing to do with
morals. You can have a ceremony performed over you and drink and do what
you please.

The Chiricahua religion is directed toward long life, good health, and things
like that. In the Chiricahua way, I can't see how religion has anything to do
with living right, as long as a person is not a witch and is not trying to use his
ceremony for meanness. Religion might be a good thing all right, but I know
from experience with my people that it didn't take that to make a person good.

Good conduct is the result of obeying the customs, and it is up to the person.
It has nothing to do with religion. A man would come to a bad end in the old
days because he violated the customs. It's just a matter of a man looking out for
his own welfare. If you obey all the rules, you get along all right in Chiricahua

THE ROUND OF LIFE 459

society. But if a person doesn't take hold of the customs, if he cuts loose, if he
doesn't treat other people right, he has no chance. Then others do not help him.
He is alone. He is bound to come to a bad end and perhaps be killed. A person
just has to observe certain things. They aren't laws — they are so strong we don't
need laws. A person is supposed to keep certain customs.

These customs, the resentment evoked by their violation, and
the rewards attending their faithful performance have consti-
tuted a large share of this narrative. Consequently, definitions
of antisocial conduct have emerged in particular contexts. The
measures taken to correct children who misbehave and the penal-
ties attached to premarital sex adventures, rape, witchcraft, in-
cest, perversion, and infidelity have received such treatment.

Nothing has been said thus far about theft. Most possessions
are so obviously personal and easily identified, or so readily
made or procured, that theft is rare. But food and buckskins are
occasionally taken.

If a person is known to be a thief, the one from whom something is stolen
will take measures of personal punishment according to the value of what was
carried away. If the thief pays back something valuable, it is acceptable; or a
relative of his might pay it back. The whole group did not have to be called to-
gether for this. It could usually be straightened out between the two involved.

Nothing much is done in case of theft. If the thief is caught, he has to give
back the property, and he is talked about and disgraced.

Theft is uncommon enough so that anyone who is guilty of it
is viewed as an aberrant. The identification of witches as "people
who steal" will be remembered.12

The reaction to murder is of an altogether different character.
What happens if the murderer is an alien has already been dis-
cussed. When he is a member of the tribe, the bereaved relatives
are scarcely less bent upon satisfaction. They may insist upon
his surrender and death, even though refusal of their demands
leads frequently to armed conflict and a feud between the fam-
ilies. Though the slayer's kin may elect to defend him, if, before
they can act, the relatives of his victim catch him and kill him,
they have no just cause for grievance: "If your relative is mur-
dered and you kill the one who did it, it is all right. His family
have no comeback. There is no meeting about it; it is no group

12 See p. 247.

^

460 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

affair. If the killer is not given up by his family, usually a fight
between the families takes place."

In another statement the rancor of the murdered man's kin and
the possibility of struggle between the two families is mentioned,
but the effort on the part of outsiders, and particularly of the
leaders, to maintain the internal peace of the group is also
stressed:

If they are not interfered with, the dead man's relatives take revenge. Some-
times a battle between the two families takes place. More often, though, the
head men use their influence and succeed in preventing the fighting. They try
to arrange it so the murderer or his family makes a payment to the family of the
slain person or to his friends. There is no set payment for this. Horses or any-
thing valuable that they have would be used.

Sometimes relatives of the slain person may be satisfied with
physical punishment of the murderer which falls short of the
death penalty:

A man killed my brother. He shot him in the head and the brain splattered.
I came and asked him why he did it. He said, "Your brother is not the only one
whose brain I'll splatter!" My heart burned. I said, "All right! We'll fight it
out!"

We went to get guns. We came toward each other. He shot twice and missed.
I just kept coming. I shot him in the left arm, and he said he had had enough.
His arm was always stiff after that; he couldn't use it much.

If the slayer has been a constant trouble-maker and an em-
barrassment to his family, they may be unwilling to defend him
further, particularly when he has evoked the anger of a powerful
kin group:

In a case of murder the relatives of the dead man kill the one who did it if they
can find him. Sometimes the killer's own relatives do not protect him. If he
has been getting them into difficulties right along, in order to avoid future
trouble in which many lives would be lost, they do not do much about it. They
figure that they did not encourage him to do the killing, and it was on his own
responsibility. If the killer has a wife and children, however, others try to pre-
vent the family of the slain person from taking revenge.

But unless outside pressure and the influence of leaders con-
ciliate the two families, the tendency is for the relatives of the
murderer to shield him and for the others to insist with equal
vehemence that they give him up. Out of such impasses grow
feuds.

What prevents this from occurring, in most cases, is the flight

THE ROUND OF LIFE 461

of the murderer, who either leaves the region as soon as he real-
izes the consequence of his act or is advised by his relatives to
stay away until bitterness against him has abated or compensa-
tion has been arranged. His family may be implicated in his es-
cape to the extent of furnishing him supplies and keeping his
destination secret. Sometimes it is impossible to conciliate the
aggrieved family, and the exile is forced to remain away — to join
some other band or even some other tribe.

But usually, as soon as he is safe, a strong movement for a
peaceful settlement is launched. It is the duty of the group
leader to lend his moral weight toward this solution. He tries to
bring representatives of the two families together at a council
where generosity is likely to be acclaimed. If the plan succeeds,
an old and respected member of one of the families steps forward
finally and says something like this: "Let us not have trouble.
We eat the same food, walk upon the same earth, breathe the
same air, and the same sun is over us. There is no reason why we
should have trouble between us. Let there be peace." This truce
is then solidified by the passage of valuable gifts to the family of
the slain person. Now a spokesman for the murderer is free to
voice his plea: "We all know our friend, and we are sorry for
what has happened. What has happened cannot be helped
though, and now our friend has given valuable presents, and we
wish to take him back into our people. Let us go on living to-
gether and forget what has happened."

Yet the animosity often continues to smolder latently. A polite
but unmistakable antagonism between two men, for instance,
was explained in this way:

He has it in for L. It was his uncle that L. killed in Alabama. They got drunk,
and somehow L. hit the other man on the head with a bottle. This case was sup-
posed to be patched up, but it has never been forgotten. That's the way it is in
lots of these cases. They can't get out of their minds what was done to their
relative, and they look for some other excuse to start trouble.

In all probability the greatest deterrent to antisocial conduct
is not the specific penalty for the offense but the concern over
social disapproval. The influence of this factor is diffuse and dif-
ficult to trace in detail, but children and adults alike are exhorted
to remember what others will say and think of their behavior.

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION AND STATUS

A LL members of the tribe, despite minor differences which

A-\ exist between the bands, are aware of the linguistic

A. JL and cultural bonds which identify them as one people

and which distinguish them from other groups of the region:

In customs, speech, beliefs, and manner of dress we people over the other way
[west of the Rio Grande] in Chiricahua country are very much alike. There may
be slight differences in speech. [It is doubtful that these ever went deeper than
some variations in vocabulary.] But we could always understand one another
thoroughly. The fundamental things — beliefs and ceremonies — are the same.
By these people I mean the Southern Chiricahua, the Central Chiricahua, and
the Eastern Chiricahua.

This tribal tie is expressed in a number of ways. The three
bands remain at peace with one another. Visiting between mem-
bers of different bands, especially near the peripheries of the band
territories, is a frequent occurrence. Individuals of one band are
always ready to attend the puberty rite of the daughter of a
member of another band. The social dance songs, with their re-
peated references to a woman or a man "from a far country," are
further evidence of intercommunication. Marriages between
members of different bands grow out of these social contacts.
Quite often persons whose lives would be forfeit in their own
band territory find a refuge in another district.

The right of members of one band to pass freely through the
territory of another band was not challenged until the Americans
became interested in controlling the activities of the Chiricahua:

We [the Eastern Chiricahua] were on friendly terms with the towns around
us and we were causing no trouble there. But the Central Chiricahua and the
Southern Chiricahua came around. They used to bring in horses stolen from the
south, and they got us into trouble.

Some of our leading men said, "There are too many Southern Chiricahua and
Central Chiricahua here. They are bringing in horses. They will get us into
trouble." But our leader, Victorio, wouldn't do anything about it. He said,
"These people are not bothering us."

Then a bunch of them came with some horses from the south. There were

462

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION AND STATUS 463

about seven in the bunch. They had stolen horses from the Pima Indians around
Tucson. The Pimas told the missionary there, and he wrote to Washington.
Soldiers came and took these men prisoners. They chained them and took them
to San Carlos. Then they took all the Eastern Chiricahua band there. Those
seven men were taken in wagons. We all had to come with horses.

Despite the peaceful relations and frequent social contacts be-
tween the bands, there is no political synthesis and scarcely any
formal recognition of the tribe as such. There is no distinct
tribal name. The word which serves to identify tribesmen also
differentiates all Apachean-speaking peoples from others and is
now used by the Chiricahua to distinguish Indians in general
from Europeans and other non-Indian populations. Moreover,
there is no organized leadership for the entire tribe; and no in-
stances have been found where the three bands acted in concert
to carry war to others, to repel invasion, or for any other pur-
pose. The tribe is too widely scattered over its extensive, varied,
and difficult terrain for united action. While individuals and
families can cross band borders and be received as tribesmen, a
concourse of the entire population is not practical.

The band, however, does achieve the political consciousness
that the tribe lacks. It possesses a distinct name which has no
other meaning. It is guided by a recognized leader (occasionally
by more than one), assisted by a number of subordinates. The
opportunities for interaction are much greater for members of
the various local groups which comprise a band than for mem-
bers of different bands. As this indicates, the band is a division
of the tribe based on territory, including within its borders those
local groups near enough together to unite for military action if
the need arises or to co-operate for any important social occasion.
The nature of the local group and that of the extended family
have already been discussed.1

This segmentation of the society into social units graded in
size and scope of activities implies a pyramiding of responsibility
and leadership. It is the men who formally assume posts of au-
thority, though "women attend councils and may speak if they
have anything to say." The married man acts as the head of his

1 See pp. 18-19 and 24-25.

464 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

household and answers for his wife, his daughters, and his un-
married sons. When he reaches middle life, after his daughters
have married and he has sons-in-law to heed his wishes, he is the
head of an extended family and gains in prestige. If anything
very serious, such as a witchcraft trial, brings the members of a
local group together, though all adults are present, it is these
heads of extended families who monopolize the discussion and
carry the decision. However, these representatives of extended
families do not all stand on a par. They, and the families for
whom they appear, vary in status and affluence. Of these elders,
one is the recognized leader and a person who is expected to
voice his views in detail and with conviction. It is loyalty to this
local group leader and trust in his wisdom which holds the par-
ticular nucleus of families together.

There may be others present, men distinguished for wealth,
bravery, or exceptional ceremonial knowledge, who are little less
important in status than the leader. The leader needs their good
will and support and seldom ignores their advice when their
desires are obvious. These men may be considered the inner
circle of the council, the advisers upon whom the leader leans
heavily. "The heads of extended families are not necessarily
leaders. They are often men of some influence though. C. was
the leader of his little bunch, yet he was not recognized as a
great leader. N. was both. The leader, however, is sure to be
also the head of an extended family." Most of the others, be-
cause they are younger or more retiring, or because they repre-
sent families that are small, poor, or low in social position, add
little besides their presence and their assent to what is decided.

To complete the picture, it is necessary to add that it is the
most dominating of the local group leaders who heads the band.
This distinction is not always clear cut. Sometimes the member-
ship of two different local groups of a band each considers its
leader superior. Then, when these two local groups join forces,
authority is fairly evenly divided. Thus, while the Central Chiri-
cahua of all local groups acknowledged Cochise as their leader,
among the Eastern Chiricahua some preferred the direction of
Victorio, others had more confidence in Nana.

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION AND STATUS 465

To appreciate the mechanics of the elevation of a man to the
office of leader, the conception of status must be understood.
Distinctions of status dependent upon birth are recognized, al-
though they are not rigidly maintained and are not uninfluenced
by considerations of wealth and ability.2

When we say "people who are worthless," we are thinking of those who are
not refined, who are of low birth. It is as if you said, "That person's line is no
good." It always carries the idea of low birth. When a man gets angry at some-
one, he tells him that he belongs to this class; he uses it as an insult. But, no
matter of what family a man comes, he isn't called this unless he is shiftless, lazy,
and unreliable. Some are like that. Of some we say, "Their excrement juts out
[because they are too lazy to wipe it away]."

Of another person we might say, "He is from his [good] people." This is used
in the sense of descent from the families of leaders and the wealthy. Those of
whom this is said are more respected. It is pretty clear cut, and there is not much
doubt whether a person belongs to this class or not.

Another informant speaks of the same extremes of status
designation but calls attention to the middle position which most
individuals hold:

Those who have sprung from families of wealth and influence are said to be
"the people of good birth." It is easy to recognize them. A ceremonial man's
children would not necessarily come under this classification, for a ceremonial
man could be very poor. The word "worthless" is applied to people who are just
loose, ignorant, or of a very poor family. Most people are in between; they are
respectable people and contribute to everything in a good way. But still they are
not the descendants of leaders. There is no name for them.

The right to respect has to be validated by achievement and
effort :

The word meaning "he is from his [good] people" is used of the descendants of
the politically influential and wealthy. Still, of a man who comes of good blood
but is worthless and a waster, they say, "He comes of good blood, all right; but
he is worthless." The term is not applied to such a person. It is said only of
descendants of influential or wealthy men who are themselves so. There isn't
much question about it or any need for dispute. Whether you like a person or
not, you have to recognize his importance and position. If my grandfather or
uncle was a leader, I would come under this term. People would expect me to
live up to it. The term includes strong people, people strong in social position or
in war. But it has to be generally accepted. People have to have respect for you.

3 Such distinctions have already been touched upon in connection with the
rearing and training of children (see pp. 28-29).

466 AN APACHE LIFE -WAY

A personal enemy might class you the other way, but you would be prominent
enough so that his motive would be apparent.

The conception of status conditions the amount of deference
an individual expects and the degree to which it is thought
seemly for him to take part in public affairs:

I nearly had some trouble with B. Some of her sheep had got mixed in with
L.'s and mine, and there was some question about range. She got angry right
away and came over and began to talk about the fact that she comes from good
blood. She was referring to her relationship to Mangus, a leader of the old times.
She did this to remind L., who is related to a leader's son, that she is as good as he
is.

Another man described an occasion when his father publicly
rebuked him for voicing opposition to a leader, the son of a man
of rank:

My father scolded me right there. He said, "You are not a leading man here,
and yet you try to find out all these things. You should not put yourself in."

I got up again to answer him. I told them all, "I am not a leading man. I
don't pretend to be. But I am here and I don't want to be misled. I defend my
family."

It is from the group of well-born and politically conscious in-
dividuals that the leaders are drawn. But family origin, while it
does confer status unless there is some grave personal disability,
does not determine political rank:

If the son of a leader is qualified, it is easier for him to become a leader. But
it doesn't have to work that way. It's queer; I don't know just how to explain it.
But those who become leaders are smarter. They are willing to come out and say
what they think. I notice it here. Some people get the idea that it is handed
down from father to son or from one relative to another. This is not so. Ability
in war and wisdom make the leader. It's easier to get to the front if you are a
good fighter. Yet some people, though they were good fighters, never became
leaders. So I think it is a matter of smartness more than anything else. The
leader is not chosen; he is just recognized. A leader might have a son who is not
much good. That boy would not be recognized as a leader then.

The leader has no absolute control. What the white man calls a chief is really
only a natural leader. Because of his skill and ability, men look up to him. If
his son is as good as he is, that boy is recognized as a leading man in time. Other-
wise he is not looked on as a leader. S. has more influence than N. or G., though
the fathers of both of these men were leaders. Even I have more influence than
these men. That's the way it looks to me in regard to this leader matter. I think
a man becomes a leader because he is a little smarter.

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION AND STATUS 467

Clearly, whatever his antecedents, a man must show presence
and a willingness to assume responsibilities if he is to be accepted
as a leader:

I don't look on N. as a leader. His father was one all right. I don't believe
others think of him as a leader either. I have never heard him speak in public. If
he would stand up in public and talk, if he would take part in public affairs, he
probably would be considered a leader. Often now I hear people say to him,
"Why don't you do something? Why don't you take an interest in these things?"
But he just doesn't care for it. There are two other men here whose fathers were
leaders. But they are just common men now.

The man mentioned in the above excerpt has supplied his own
interpretation of his status: "Some people call me leader be-
cause my father was a leader. But I don't take it that way. I'm
just like a poor man. I have no horses, no cattle. I don't live in
a good house. I live just the way [other] Indians live, in a camp."

"Sometimes a leader's son refuses the responsibility," but the
expectancy is that he or a close relative will succeed the head
man. It is assumed that the leader has given his young relative
the benefit of his knowledge and has prepared him for the position
by the most rigorous training:

A young man, the son of a leader, has no excuse for not knowing what his
father knew. Therefore, a young man is expected to be able to take the job. He
is expected to act like a young man no longer. He is expected to have lots of
sense.

Someone teaches him how to lead his people, so that they will not be in danger
of starvation, how to select well-watered sites for camping, where to go after
deer, and how to lead men into battle.

The leadership idea came from Child of the Water. When he was on earth, he
was a leader. The leadership is usually kept in the same family; it is just handed
down. If a man's father, uncle, grandfather, or someone else in the family is a
leader, the boy is in line to be one too. Then he is especially trained for this. He
is instructed by his parents or grandparents to be a leader.

The son of the leader is the first choice when the leader dies or isn't active any
more. Most of the leaders I knew were sons of leaders. The chief's children get
special advice and act in a different way. Because he is trained in a good way
right from the start, the leader's son usually turns out to be a real man.

It is customary for the leader to be a man of wealth too, for
the backing of prominent relatives and the attention bestowed

468 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

upon a young man of rank are likely to assure him more than the
ordinary share of gifts and products of the raid. His marriage
connections will probably also be of the best. The tie between
leadership and wealth is a close one:

If a man gets a lot of cattle, all his friends and relatives want to help him and
live off him; and so such a man is respected. Everybody wants to help him and
be his friend. He may butcher an animal for the whole crowd occasionally. He
becomes a leader. If he has many horses, all his friends use them; they thus put
themselves under him, and he becomes their leader. A leader has to be rich any-
way in order to give feasts. An important leader has four or five wives, and he
takes care of them. In general, he has the best of every thing.

Exceptional bravery sometimes elevates a warrior to rank even
though his antecedents are ordinary:

A man who has done great deeds in war may be looked on as a leader when he
comes back, even though he is not of a leader's family. A prisoner who has
grown up with the Chiricahua and has accepted the life might even become a
leader if he is brave and successful enough.

The functions of the leader are varied:

In case of war a leader heads the men when they go to battle. In time of
peace he acts as adviser. He has charge of the group as far as camping, living
conditions, and water supply are concerned. He advises the men about the hunt,
where to go and how. Besides being an adviser and commander in war, the
leader is also a peacemaker on occasion. If there should be a murder and the
leader finds it out, he and some assistants saddle their horses, ride out among the
camps, and work for peace so that there will not be any trouble. If the leader is
not present when the act occurs, there may be a lot of trouble. The people try to
fix it up peaceably; if not, trouble continues and there may be a long family feud.

The leader is supposed to talk to his people. He is supposed to be sympathetic
and tell them how to live, sympathetic in the sense of giving out horses and
valuables to those who need them. The leader is supposed to give something to
eat to everyone who comes around. He has control in time of war. You can't
disobey him. The leader advises the people to help the unfortunate, to give to
those whose luck is bad. He advises against fights in the camps; he doesn't want
any quarrels within the group.

He advises the people to be on the lookout all the time. He may request that a
ceremony be performed by a shaman for the benefit of the men during a raid. If
the leader is advised by the shaman as a result of such a ceremony to do this or
that, he carries out what the power tells him to do. A man must be wealthy and
have a big following to be a chief.

Nothing special is done when a man becomes a leader. People just take it for
granted. He talks then. He gives speeches on public occasions.

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION AND STATUS 469

The leader's effectiveness as a speaker is likely to prove a
measure of his success. When he repeatedly fails to convince his
followers of the necessity of the actions he counsels, his control
simply dissolves:

The leader has to be a good man, a good talker. He takes charge of things.
He always has much to say. When anything is pending, he is asked about it,
and he gives his opinion. What he says is respected, and his advice is usually
followed. His directions are followed when the men are at war. In case of a
murder he advises what to do about it. If more than one local group is involved,
the leaders have a meeting and decide what to do with the murderer.

The leader generally gets on a hill or a high place and gives advice to the
people. He does this every day or sometimes just once in two or three days if
there is nothing much to report. When there is a great deal of sickness in the
camps, the leader may ask some shaman to hold a ceremony for the people.

Except for the greater respect paid to him and the fact that everyone likes
him, the leader is treated like anyone else in the group. If the leader gets too old,
he just drops out; another man is put in his place. Then he stays home and
doesn't try to go out and direct things. If they have any dispute over the leader,
if it gets so that a good many don't trust him, they just get a new leader in his
place. The one who has been leader is just a common member of the group after
that.

As the last quotation suggests, the authority of the leader is
far from absolute; his position is little stronger than that of an
adviser of excellent reputation :

A man called "leader" is respected all right. N. was a leader when I was
young. If what N. advised when he was leader was in line with what the others
considered their best interests, they followed him. The minute his ideas ran
counter to those of the people he was directing, his ideas were not followed. He
never had absolute control. No man would do what he said just because he said
it. People always listened closely to what he said; they gave his words more
attention than they gave to those of some ordinary man, but they didn't have to
accept everything he said.

The word "leader" carries the idea of director or commander. It does give
you the idea that the directions are to be obeyed. But in actual life this is not
always true. We use the same word ["he leads, commands, directs"] when a man
is giving directions at a ceremony or about a piece of work.

Consequently, the head man's rank is assured only as long as
his direction is effective:

When the leader gets old, he may call the people together and say to them, "I
have been your leader for a long time, and I am becoming old and feeble, even
of mind. I want you to choose another who can do for you what I once did."

470 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

But most often nothing as formal as this takes place. The retire-
ment of the leader is gradual. His son or some prominent younger
man who works closely with him and has his confidence takes
charge in an increasing number of situations where physical
vigor is essential. The old man, on the other hand, devotes a
greater amount of attention to affairs of the camp. It is only a
matter of time before the former leader is satisfied to act as the
honored patriarch and as "he who commands for the home,"
leaving to his successor the responsibility for major decisions and
military action. Therefore the length of the leader's period of
service can be said to depend to a large degree upon his health
and the amount of assistance he himself requires. Many leaders
hold their following unchallenged until their death because they
remain clear of mind and commanding in manner despite ad-
vancing years. The hereditary rights of a leader are honored only
as long as he can fulfil the promise of his birth:

If the group is dissatisfied with their leader, if they are tired of him and don't
like him, they may just move away and camp elsewhere and recognize another
leader. Then the former leader is left alone with his family. If a leader sees that
such a thing is going to happen, he can, of course, give up his rights of leadership
and remain with the group as an ordinary man.

Leadership, then, is a process in which birth and wealth have
their place, but in which ability and personal magnetism are
always the leavening factors.

Whatever a man's rank in society, as long as he is not senile,
advancing years entitle him to increased deference. "A person is
respected more in home life when he reaches his prime." This
attitude is indicated in countless small details of everyday life.
The older person, for instance, is permitted to open the conversa-
tion when two individuals meet. One young woman is criticized
because she is "too forward with older people" and frequently
takes the initiative in greetings. When friends embrace, the older
acts first.

Whatever aged men and women do for the young is especially
appreciated; the hope is that the actions of the elders may oper-
ate as a prayer to secure comparable long life for the child:

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION AND STATUS 471

If a very old woman, though she is no relative to me or my wife, comes in here,
she can pick up my child and call it, "my daughter's child." If there are more
than the one around, she can calltliem by the term that White Painted Woman
used to Child of the Water. This has been handed down from the beginning.
I've seen many old women who have a kind heart for children do this. Old men
can do it too. It's a religious way, sort of a blessing.

Also, certain of the prohibitions are less strictly applied to the
aged. It will be recalled that very old people may joke in a
mildly risque manner with affinal relatives whom they had to
treat much more circumspectly when they were young.

And yet, the consolations of age notwithstanding, this way of
life is such a strenuous one that the episodes of action and daring
of youth and middle age are the treasured moments in a career.
The individual grows old reluctantly, with his eyes on the past,
often with sad songs that recall his lost youth:

Many years ago I saw an old man sitting by the fire working. He sang this
song then, and, as he sang it, the tears rolled down his cheeks. He was thinking
back to the good times he had when he was a young man. It's really an old man's
song. They just sit there in a pitiful way and sing it slowly. I can't sing it like
that.

When I was young, I took no heed;

Old, old I have become!

Because I knew that age would come

To me, I took no heed.

But to those who live still longer there comes a time when life
becomes a burden, when debility hems them in, and "they are
not happy because they can't get around." Then, at last, the
aged person must confess:

Well, I've seen my best days. I am old. I am a nuisance to the group, and if
anything happens to me it's all right. When I was young, I saw happy days and
I had a good time. Now I'll never see those days again. I'm old and useless and
not fit for anything, not even to live.

DEATH, MOURNING, AND THE
UNDERWORLD

THE topic of death is sedulously avoided. The regular
term for death is seldom used; the approved euphem-
ism "he is gone" is employed instead.1 When an in-
formant was asked whether his people had any death songs, his
emphatic reply was:

There are no death songs for the Chiricahua. Our war songs urge the men to
go forward all the time. Death wouldn't be mentioned. If a Chiricahua man
heard a word about death in there during a war dance, he would stop dancing.
He would go to a man with a ceremony for war and have him sing his songs and
find out what it meant. Some men would back right out as soon as they heard
anything like that. They'd be afraid that the fight would turn against them if
that bad word was said in there.

But, when death does strike, a formal pattern of thought and
procedure exists to make possible the requisite material and
psychological adjustments.

The data already presented concerning the owl, the ghost, and
ghost sickness2 have paved the way for a summary of the charac-
teristics of the burial practices:

When a person dies, his close relatives pull their good clothes off. They tie
any old thing around themselves to keep themselves covered and warm. It is
sometimes a month before they dress in good clothes again. Members of the
family cut their hair; the women wail; the men cry.

A few minutes after death (whether a man or a woman has died) a close male
relative may go out of doors and shoot off a good many cartridges in the air. He
doesn't shoot in any special direction. Any male relative can do it. I don't know
exactly why it is done; no one seems to be sure. But I think that this has to do
with the importance of the person who has died. It tells the rest of the people
that someone of standing has died. N. was a leader. When his mother died, he

1 In spite of the great terror surrounding death, suicides occasionally occur
when life becomes unbearable. Individuals have committed suicide when cap-
tured by the enemy, when stunned with grief at the loss of a child or some other
close relative, or as a result of marital strife.

2 See pp. 14-15, 229-37, 301-5-

472

DEATH, MOURNING, AND THE UNDERWORLD 473

took a gun and shot into the air about fifteen times, right in succession. This was
not done with arrows before the guns came into use. I'm pretty sure it dates
from the time that guns came in. It may be connected with the shooting over
the graves of dead soldiers by their comrades that the Chiricahua saw. Such
shooting is not always done, but it occurs quite often.

The close relatives get the body ready for burial. A close friend might help,
but it's hard to ask him. A person who lays out the corpse of a near relative does
not mind so much, for he is supposed to do it, but you have a queer feeling if you
lay out the body of one you are not related to. No particular relative has to do it.
All those who are closely related to the dead person feel that they should help if
they are called on. It can be men or women who do it. We don't like to do it,
but it can't be helped. We are really a little afraid to handle bodies. Not long
ago I had to handle a little baby when it died; I had to stay up and see it die.
Many try to get out of it when they can.

The body is bathed, or at least the face of the dead person is always washed.
The hair is combed, and red paint is put on his face to make him look nice. The
dead person is dressed up in his best clothes for the burial. The burial always
takes place in the day, on the same day that death occurred if possible. They
bury the corpse quickly and far from the settlements — in the mountains, if they
are near. They don't want children at a burial. Just a few older people who are
needed go.

The best horse, the favorite horse of the dead person, is used. The dead
person's robes or blankets are tied to the horse, and the horse is loaded with his
belongings. His good saddle is put on the horse. Then the corpse is mounted on
the horse and is held there by his relatives as the funeral procession makes its
way up the canyon to the place where the burial is to be. As the funeral proces-
sion passes near the camps, the people cry for the dead man, if he was their good
friend.

Out there the members of the burial party might strike a little natural de-
pression at the bottom of a hill. They could use this as a grave. They wrap the
body in a blanket or a hide, put a little brush under it and some on top, and put a
few rocks on top if they are handy. Or they put down a layer of rocks, put the
body on it, then brush and branches over, then leaves and dirt, and finally rocks
on top until there is a small mound.

If they find a little cave or a hole in the rocks, that is used.3 The body is put
on the floor, and the entrance is blocked up with rocks and covered with mud to
hide it and make it look like the side of the cliff. They aren't going to talk about
the grave and tell where it is. They don't want anyone to know or think about it.

When a cave is not handy, they might scoop out a hollow grave and bury the
body in a hole in the ground. A hide or logs would be put over the body to keep
out the animals.

The body is always laid with the head to the sundown. The property they

3 Interestingly enough, there is a term which means both "cave cache" and
"grave."

474 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

brought is buried with the corpse. What they don't bury with him is burned or
destroyed back home. All that a person had is destroyed. They say that what-
ever is thrown away with a dead person that belongs to him he carries to the
underworld. They want him to have the use of these things in the other world.
They don't want him to get there poor. They want to show that they do not
hold property above their relative. And they don't want anything that the dead
person had used a great deal to be around. It would only remind people of the
one who died and bring them sorrow. Also they fear that the ghost of the person
who owned the article will come back to molest the one who keeps it.

For the same reasons they kill the horse that has carried the dead person's
possessions. It is stabbed in the throat or shot, at or near the grave. If a man
has several horses, sometimes they kill them all; sometimes only his favorite
horse or horses, the ones he actually used all the time. It is because a person used
a thing continually and it is associated with him and reminds you of him that
you don't want to keep it. People don't want to see his horse. Because he used to
ride it so much, to have it around reminds them of the former owner. Besides
they kill the horses so they will go with the dead person. The saddles are burned.

They don't have to kill all the horses of the family though. All the horses of a
family are not thought of as belonging to one person, even to the man who is the
head of that family. If a family has five or six horses, one is considered the prop-
erty of a child, another of the wife, and so on. A man might not be considered to
possess more than one or two horses of his own. These are his favorites and the
ones he always used, and they are killed at his death. They cut the tails and
manes of horses if any are kept at the death of a man.

Everything is buried or destroyed. If a woman's baskets or pots are not
buried with her, they put holes through them. Nothing is left whole, for they
don't want them used again, even by mistake. Usually for a man the only things
that are buried with him are his clothes and weapons. Other things are burned.

The things he used in his ceremony are not kept either. Those things are de-
stroyed. Sometimes they put them in the grave with the dead person. Some
hang them on a tree. There was one woman who died at Fort Sill. She had a
cross that she used in her ceremonial work. They put it in her grave with her.
Then at night something like lightning would come out of the grave.

When the person died of old age, branches of fruit-bearing trees are used to
cover the grave. When an old Indian dies, they bring branches of all trees that
bear fruit. They put the limbs on top of the grave. They say, "Next season I hope
there will be many of these trees." Young people call the dead out by name and
say, "I hope that I will also grow old."4 When a person dies in youth, his name is
not called this way. When they bury a person, they brush off their own bodies
with green grass and then put it on him in the form of a cross. Then they won't
dream of him.

4 This material was obtained from a Southern Chiricahua informant. A
member of the Eastern Chiricahua band claimed to know nothing about the par-
ticular procedure.

DEATH, MOURNING, AND THE UNDERWORLD 475

The burial doesn't take very long, and they come away as soon as they can.
They keep away from that place; it is not revisited. Just witches are seen fooling
around graves.

It is the intention of the members of the burial party and of
the close relatives of the deceased to alter so completely the situ-
ation with which their dead kinsman was associated that nothing
will remind them of him, and nothing they have or do will draw
his ghost to them. They destroy not only all his property and all
the objects which he handled or used to any extent but also gifts
which have come from him. The members of the burial party
and any others who have come into contact with the corpse
bathe carefully and burn or "roll up and hide in the woods" the
clothes they have worn during their unpleasant task. Most
often, too, "the others change their clothes. They don't want to
wear what they had on when the person was living and when they
were going around with him." Other precautions are taken:

Often after a death the person who has had contact with the body purifies
himself by taking "ghost medicine," throwing it on a fire, making-smoke from it,
and sitting before the smoke with a robe. If the smoke is plentiful, no robe is
needed. He then sits or stands where the smoke can get all over him — any way
so the smoke goes all over. The hair is always washed after contact with the
dead, and the clothes worn are burned or thrown away. Sometimes all the close
relatives use the "ghost medicine."

In addition, there must be a further change in the appearance

of the bereaved — the cutting of the hair:

The hair of men, women, and children is cut when a close relative dies. The
hair is cut once, to about ear length, and then it is allowed to grow out again. It
is done for a parent, a brother or a sister, or a husband or a wife. For a man, the
wife and mother are sure to cut their hair. Some sisters do, some do not. It is
seldom that cousins do it, and the relatives of a dead person's husband or wife do
not do it at all. Some adults only cut the ends of the hair.

Camp life must be reconstructed in a new locality and on a
different basis. "Following a death we move camp. The rela-
tives don't want to live in the same place. It doesn't matter
whether the person died in the home or not. It is destroyed any-
way. Usually it is burned. And they do not go back around that
old camp site much either."

Because the name is so intimate a facet of the personality, one

476 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

of the most rigid injunctions forbids the mention of the name of
the recently deceased. If the dead person must be mentioned,
a qualifying phrase provides a safeguard:

There should be no mention of a dead person. To mention the name of the
dead reminds relatives of him and makes them feel bad; it only causes sorrow.
Besides it might prove dangerous. To call the name of a dead person at any time
is bad, and especially after dark.

We are instructed, in case it is necessary to use the name of the dead, to put a
word after the name which means "who used to be called." Another way is to
say "the one who used to be a relative of So-and-So." The avoidance of the
name is not observed only before the relatives of the dead person. It is a general
observance.

When an elder of the family, who has been in close contact
with the children, dies, their names are changed:

The children of the family get different names then. The person who has died
has called the children by this name that is being dropped; that is why they.don't
want it used any more. The older people don't have their names changed be-
cause of this, however.

If the relative who suggested one's name dies, that name is
sure to be changed: " 'Little' was my first name. Later a
name was given to me by my grandmother. When she died, it
was changed."

When a person who is named after something of common ref-
erence dies, the people are reluctant to use the term for a long
time after the death. "They are especially careful around the
relatives." Circumlocutions and synonyms are employed until
the danger period is past. Even the use of relationship terms is
restricted because their utterance might stimulate painful mem-
ories or ghost anxieties:

If you have two relatives that you call by the same relationship term and one
of them dies, you don't call the other by this term for a while. You call him by
his name until the dead person is forgotten. Then you can use the relationship
term to him again.

Those outside the relationship group in which a death has
occurred must exercise the greatest care not to arouse the resent-
ment of the bereaved:

What the relatives do not like if a person dies is to see in the next few days
anyone wearing a red dress, a red shirt, a red headband, or red clothes of any
kind. It hurts the feelings of those who have lost their relative to see this. If a

DEATH, MOURNING, AND THE UNDERWORLD 477

death occurs near by, others take off their red clothes at once. It is because red
is colorful and stands for a good time. If your relative dies and you see someone
wearing red, you say, "Well, that fellow wore red when I was sad. When his
relative dies, I'm going to wear red just for meanness." Fights and bad feelings
can start from this; enemies can be made in this way.

And yet, in spite of all the determined efforts to obliterate the
memory of the dead, a prolonged period of formal mourning is
sanctioned:

For some time after the death of his wife a man will not dress in fine clothes or
colors. And he won't go to social dances. He won't even be invited, because the
people know he isn't thinking of such things. A woman will not attend the social
dancing at a puberty rite, though it is held several months after her husband's
death. She will wait about a year before she will go to such affairs.

Moreover, regardless of all warnings concerning the danger of
excessive grief, some individuals find it impossible to repress their
sorrow:

A woman may wail for a dead relative before sunrise for years after he dies if
some special calamity has come which she thinks wouldn't have come if the rela-
tive were alive. Or she may wail when she sees a special friend of her dead son,
or one who is of the same age and looks like him.

While the relatives are observing the necessary rites, the
ghost of the departed makes its way or is led by other ghostly kin
to the underworld, "a beautiful place beneath the ground, where
a nice stream of water flows between banks that are lined with
cottonwood trees, and everything is green." This home of the
departed has been variously termed by informants "where the
cottonwoods stand in a line," "ground that is streaked with red,"
"underground," "where they go off," and "where they go down."
The last two names refer to the manner of reaching this sub-
terranean paradise:

Our concept is down, a place beneath. When I was a child, many years ago,
the Chiricahua never talked about where other Indians go at death. They just
talked about where their own people, the Chiricahua, go. We think of a dead
person going on to another life — of his whole body, as it was on earth, going to
the other world. He is really transferred to that other world.

When a person is very sick and is unconscious, it is said that he is somewhere
else, that his ghost has gone where the dead people are, to visit his friends. If he
regains consciousness, it is because his ghost gets back again, and when he gets
well he may tell where he was. Every once in a while someone has an experience
like this. That is how we know where the place is and what it looks like.

478 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

For instance, when I was a little boy someone was very sick, more dead than
alive. He peeped into the underworld. But he didn't quite go there. He came
back and told what he saw. He described the entrance to it as a huge sand pile
upon which people are dropped and which they are trying to climb. But the sand
gives way, and they don't get to this world again. The underworld, according to
this man, lies just below our present world.

When a person dies, he goes under the ground. He goes through an opening
in the ground which is cut out like a window. Someone leads him to it so he can't
miss it. There is tall grass all around it to hide it and make it look natural.
When this opens, there is a great pile of sand, shaped like a tepee or cone, stretch-
ing down beneath. It is a far distance from the top to the bottom. Once a person
is down there, it is almost impossible to get back. Once he is through the gate it
is impossible for the person who is really dead to come back to life; yet some who
are just very sick or in a death coma, but who later recover, can come back and
tell about it. This big sand hill closes off the underworld for those who are there.
If you are in the underworld and succeed in getting to the top of it, you will get
back to earth and life. But it is almost impossible. Many try it. They get up so
far, and then the sand rolls down with them.

The conditions of life in the underworld are pictured by one
who claims to have glimpsed the place during a serious illness:

The same ways we have here are carried on down there too. Those people
dance, eat, and sleep. A person down there can actually feel another in the flesh.
The people remain the same age as they were when they died. I saw people as
they were when they went. That is the way it is always seen. There is no sickness,
death, pain, or sorrow there. Those who were good and those who were bad are
down there together. I saw them all mixed together. The same places, the same
sacred mountains, the same ceremonies exist there as here. It is just as though
everything is transferred to a different country.

Always the emphasis is upon the perpetuation of customary
activities:

There is no death there, but lots of good things to eat. Affairs go on in the
same way, but better. Those who are there just go on living happily. Life means
more. It is always the same life, the hunting, the raids, and all, as in the old days.
There are the same puberty rite, masked dances, and sacred mountains. In the
underworld they are just like a big community, but they are split up into the
same groups as on earth. Each person is with his own group. And each does the
same things he used to do when he was on earth. As the story goes, if you were
an arrow-maker, you are there making arrows. If you were a good hunter, you
are over there hunting. If you were a great warrior on earth, you are out at war.

And so, at the final point to which we have traced this cul-
ture, the underworld in which it has been faithfully projected,
we take leave of the Chiricahua life-way.

APPENDIX

CHIRICAHUA KINSHIP SYSTEM
AND TERMS

The following symbols are used in Fig. 2:

The triangle indicates male; the circle indicates female.

The sign of equality indicates marriage of the individuals be-
tween whom it is placed.

Vertical lines are generation lines and connect parent and
offspring; horizontal lines connect collateral relatives of the
same generation.

The appearance of a letter in more than one generation shows
that the term which the letter represents is a self-reciprocal (e.g.,
the term for father's father [A] is also used of son's child [man
speaking]).

St.f. means stepfather, st.m. means stepmother, old. means
older, and yng. means younger.

TABLE 1

Chiricahua Kinship Terms

A* Sinale H Sima"

sicme 1 si7oye, sidai

C sicoye J S&4"

D §165 K Sik'is

E Ska' L sil4h

F Side'de*' M s17e', siza*

G slbe'ze' N slya&e'

* The letters ("A," "B," "C," etc.) refer to the relatives in Fig. 2. The terms
listed under "I" can be used interchangeably, as can also those listed under "M."

479

o

bJO

w
s

a.

CO

C

LS

3

u
'C

15
U

6

i—i

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Barrell, S. M. Geronimo's Story of His Life. New York: Duffield & Co., 1915.
Bourke, John G. Apache Campaign in Sierra Madre. New York: Charles

Scribner's Sons, 1886.

. On the Border with Crook. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1891.

. "Medicine Men of the Apache," Ninth Annual Report of the Bureau of

American Ethnology. Washington, 1892.
Castetter, Edward F., and Opler, M. E. The Ethnobiology of the Chiricahua

and Me scaler 0 Apache. "Bulletin of the University of New Mexico, Biolog-
ical Series," Vol. IV, No. 5. Albuquerque, 1936.
Davis, B. Truth about Geronimo. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1929.
Harrington, M. R. "The Devil Dance of the Apaches," Museum Journal

(Philadelphia), VIII, No. 1 (i9i2),6-9.
Hoijer, Harry. Chiricahua and Mescalero Apache Texts. With ethnological

notes by Morris Edward Opler. "University of Chicago Publications in

Anthropology." Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938.
Opler, Morris Edward. "The Concept of Supernatural Power among the

Chiricahua and Mescalero Apaches," American Anthropologist, XXXVII,

No. 1 (1935), 65-70.
. "Note on the Cultural Affiliations of Northern Mexican Nomads,"

ibid., No. 4, pp. 702-6.

"An Interpretation of Ambivalence of Two American Indian Tribes,"

Journal of Social Psychology, VII (1936), 82-116.

-. "Some Points of Comparison and Contrast between the Treatment of

Functional Disorders by Apache Shamans and Modern Psychiatric Prac-
tice," American Journal of Psychiatry , XCII, No. 6 (1936), 1371-87.

-. "The Kinship Systems of the Southern Athabaskan-speaking Tribes:

A Comparative Study," American Anthropologist, XXXVIII, No. 4 (1936),
620-33.

"An Outline of Chiricahua Apache Social Organization," in Social

Anthropology of North American Tribes, ed. Fred Eggan. Chicago: Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 1937.

"The Sacred Clowns of the Chiricahua and Mescalero Apache Indians,"

El Palacio, XLIV, Nos. 10-12 (1938), 75-79.

"Further Comparative Anthropological Data Bearing on the Solution

of a Psychological Problem," Journal of Social Psychology, IX (1938), 477-83.
"A Chiricahua Apache's Account of the Geronimo Campaign of 1886,"

New Mexico Historical Review, VIII, No. 4 (1938), 360-86.

. "Three Types of Variation and Their Relation to Culture Change,"

481

482 AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

in Language, Culture, and Personality: Essays in Memory of Edward Sapir,
ed. Leslie Spier, A. Irving Hallowell, and Stanley S. Newman: Men-
asha, Wis.: George Banta Publishing Co., 1941.

"Myths and Tales of the Chiricahua Apache Indians." In press.

Opler, Morris Edward, and Hoijer, Harry. "The Raid and Warpath Lan-
guage of the Chiricahua Apache," American Anthropologist, XLII, No. 4
(1940), 617-34.

Reports of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, 1869, 1873, 1874. Washington,
1869, 1873, 1874.

INDEX

Abalone shell, 21, 40, no, 131, 215,
259, 266, 272, 275, 283

Ability, influence of, in status, 465,
466, 467

Abortion, 147

Abstinence, in boys' training, 71

Acoma, 1

Acorns, gathering and use of, 363

Adultery, punishment for, 410, 411

Adulthood, at completion of novitiate,
139

Affinal relatives, terms for, 163-64,
185

Affirmation, 434

Afterbirth, disposal of, 8

Agave, gathering and use of, 356-58

Age: attitude toward, 62-63; preroga-
tives of, 470-71; and status, 63;
stick, 116, 128, 261; terms, 432

Aged: bring good fortune to young,
470; as bugaboo for children, 30-31 ;
ceremonial prerogatives of, 84

Agriculture: extent of, 374, 374 n.;
influence of Mexicans in, 372, 373,
374; methods of, 373-74; recency of,
372

Algerita berries, gathering and use of,
361

Ambushing, 345-46

Americans, 215, 351, 462

Amulets: for children, 12, 37; for cra-
dle, n; for lightning sickness, 284,
284 n.; for war, 342; wearing of, fol-
lowing ceremony, 266, 293, 310

Anal flatulence, as source of cere-
mony, 206

Anglepod seeds, 363

Animal homes, 286-87

Animals: contaminating, 224; domes-
tic, cared for by horse shaman, 300;
game, killed by lightning for people,
286; of mythological period, 196

Animism, and supernatural power, 206
Ant, red: disease from, 237; stings,

treatment of, 218
Antelope: ceremony from, 285; en-
circlement by, dangerous, 287;
methods of hunting, 324-25; mon-
ster, slain by Child of the Water,
197-98

Antelope head mask, use of, in stalk-
ing game, 285, 287, 324

Anthill, urinating in prohibited, 237

Apachean-speaking peoples, 463

Arrow: child's, 390; feathering, 388-
89; fluting, 286, 286 n., 389-90;
lengths, 390, making of, 388-91;
straightening, 388, 390

Arrow games, 50-52

Arrow poison, 319; used in war, 340-
41

Arrow release, 388

Arrow-shooting contests, 391

Arrowheads, 389

Art, naturalistic, forbidden to women,
379

Ashes, 8, 283, 302, 304; as prophylac-
tic against ghost, 231; as prophylac-
tic against witchcraft, 253; for rash,
186; to stop muscular tremor, 188

Attendant, of puberty rite, 84, 90;
nonshamanistic functions of, 84;
selection of, 84-85

Avoidance: of affinal relatives, 160,
161, 164; behavior pattern of, 164-
69; by choice, 170-72; continuation
or termination of, 172-75; cousin,

483

484

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

61-62; economic implications of,
164, 168-69; and personality con-
flicts, 175-76

Awl, 380

Awl case, 379

Badger: ceremony from, 313; hunted
for fur, 327

Ball game, 52, 446-48

Band: differences, 95 n., 96 n., 325,
326, 328, 330, 350, 372-73, 378-79,
385-86, 396; nature of, 463

Bands: names and locations of, 1-2;
native names for, 1-2; number of, 1

Basket, ceremonial tray, 89, 97, 130,
132, 260, 263

Basketry, 380-82

Bat: association of, with horseman-
ship, 214, 237; ceremony from, 313;
disease from, 237

Bathing, ritual, 133

Beads: children's, 45; white, 13

Bear: associated with bodily strength,
214; ceremony from, 288-93; disease
from, 224-25; paw used in cere-
mony, 291

Beauty, ideals of, 144-45
Beaver: ceremony from, 313; hunted
for fur, 327

Beeswax, used to cure sterility, 405

Beetle, black water, disease from, 238

Berdaches, 79-80, 4 16

Beverage: agave, 369; cota, 368
honey used in, 2>^S\ lip fern, 368
maize, 369-70; mesquite bean, 369
oak bark, 368; prickly pear, 368
sotol, 369; see also Tiswin

Bezoar, 261

Big Dipper, 428

Bird blind, 329

Birds: created from feathers of mon-
ster eagle, 198; method of cooking,
367

Bison: ceremony from, 293; hunting,
327

Bit, 396

Black One, description of, 276-77

Bladder stones, caused by urinating in
anthill, 37

Blood: exchange theory, 150; tobacco

incompatible with, 187
Bloodletting, 217

Blowing, ritual, 100, 101, in, 112,
216, 264, 274-75, 283

Body "feeding," 429

Bone games, 52

Bow: decoration of, 387; making of,

386-87
Bow cover, 341 ; man's part in making,

379-80; materials for, 391; woman's

part in making, 379-80

Bow string, making of, 387-88

Bowl, rawhide, 379

Bowlegs, caused by eating frogs, 332

Boys: instructed in hunting by deer
and antelope shamans, 285; pro-
hibited from sweat-bathing, 219;
supervision of, 81; training, early,
67-74; see also Raid and war noviti-
ate

Bravery, influence of, in status, 468

Bridle, 396

Buckskin, method of re-working, 377;
see also Tanning

Bugaboo, 29

Bull, monster, slain by Child of the

Water, 197
Bullboat, 396

Burial: customs, 472-75; infant, 14
Burning skin: against ghosts, 302; as

test of courage, 69; as treatment for

pain, 218

Bush tit, ceremony from, 313

Butchering deer, 320

Butt and tip, 85, 94, 115, 116, 132

Butterfly, used in ceremony, 151, 152,

153
Buzzard: ceremony offered by, 203;
disease from, 239

INDEX

485

Cache, cave, 371

Cactus: giant, gathering and use of,
360; nipple, 359; pitahaya, gather-
ing and use of, 359-60; prickly pear,
gathering and use of, 361

Call: of applause, women's, 84, 96,
96 n., 98, 112, 119, 133, 267, 337,
342, 352; of masked dancers, 112,
113

Camp: abandoned at death, 475; not
left as when in use, 427-28

Camping techniques, 134-35

Casas Grandes, 337

Castration threat, 81

Caterpillar, used in love ceremony,

153
Cat's cradle, 53-54
Cattle, wild, 327
Centipede, disease from, 238
Central Chiricahua band, 2

Century plant: symbolized in puberty
rite, 117; see also Agave

Ceremonial objects, disposal of, at
death, 474

Ceremonialism, in boys' training, 70,
7i

Ceremony: to control sex of unborn
child, 6; cradle, 10-12; for difficult
labor, 9; discontinuance of, 212;
earliest memories of, 38-40; for
fecundity, 405-6; for finding lost
objects, 214; first moccasins, 15-17;
following death, 303; ghost, 43;
homeopathic nature of, 257; indi-
viduality of, 257; length of, 260; at
opening of beehive, 365; spring hair-
cutting, 17-18; for sterility, 405;
taught by grandparent, 64; transfer
of refused, 211; transmission of,
210-11; before war, 342; see also
Curing rite, Love ceremonies,
Masked-dancer ceremony

Chaperonage, 80

Charcoal, 262

Charming; see Love ceremonies

Chihuahua, 337

Child: sickly, because of mother's pre-
mature second pregnancy, 13; train-
ing, 15-36

Child of the Water, 16, 17, 3$, 36, 89,
90, 95 n., 137, 196, 198, 216, 233,
264, 288, 307, 310, 344, 390, 471;
associated with hunting rules, 320;
birth of, 197; gives sweat bath, 219;
power from, 281; symbolic of male
principle, 282

Childbirth, 6-7

Children, illegitimate, treatment of,

147-48
Chinese, 328

Chiricahua: present location of, 4; re-
moval to Alabama, 4; removal to
Florida, 4; removal to Fort Sill,
Oklahoma, 4

Chokecherries, gathering and use of,
359

Christian influence, in Silas John cult,
*33 n-

Cigarettes, 441; ceremonial, to termi-
nate avoidance, 174-75

Circuit, ceremonial, 8, 12, 16, 17, 40,
94, 108, 112, 116, 120, 130, 131, 132,
I37> 193, 261, 273, 274, 296, 304,
308, 370

Clasping, ritual, 112

Clay, white, 89, 90, 116, 130, 261

Cloudburst, explanation of, 187

Clouds, 264, ceremony from, 215, 313;
home of Thunder People, 195

Clown, 268, 269; appearance of, 105-

6; as bugaboo for children, 29-30;

function of, 105-6; gestures of, 106;

importance in curing rite, 106, 276;

as messenger for masked dancers,

106
Cochise, 372, 464
Cochise Apache, 2
Colds, treatment of, 221
Color-directional symbolism, 95, 262,

283,307,311

486

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Comanche, 141, 278, 290, 409
Conception, theories of, 148-50
Confinement, length of, 9-10
Constellations, 195
Contact, as source of illness, 224
Continence: attitude toward, 79; dur-
ing nursing period, 13; during preg-
nancy, 5
Controller of Water, 199
Coppermine Apache, 1
Coral, 261

Corn, cooking and preservation of, 375
Corpse, dangers of contact with, 235
Corral, of masked-dancer ceremony,

273
Cosmology, 36, 194-96; unorganized
state of, 194

Costume, of masked dancers, 109-10

Council, to hear charges of witchcraft,
252

Courtship: absence of formalized pe-
riod of, 143; character of, 144

Cousin: avoidance, 61-62; relation-
ships, 61-62

Coyote, 250, 317, 416; associated with
dog and wolf, 293; brings death,
197; ceremony from, 40-41, 293,
293 n.; creates "path" of man, 197;
credited with invention of pottery,
3%3> 3%3 n-> disease from, 40, 225-
26; looses darkness, 196; steals fire,
196; as trickster, 196

Coyote story cycle, 35, 438-39; makes
children sleepy, 439

Cradle: construction of, 11; disposal

of, at death of infant, 14-15
Cremation, attitude toward, 253 n.
Crook, General, 4

Crops: abundant, magic for, 374; cul-
tivated, 374

Cross: of ashes, 215; ritual, 132, 259,
266, 273, 302, 304, 309, 311; of Silas
John cult, 233, 233 n.

Crow: associated with hunt, 317;

ceremony from, 313; disease from,
238; keeps animals in underground
home, 198; offering to, during hunt,
321; story of, as animal keeper, 279
Crying, for dead, 473

Cudweed, as prophylactic against
lightning, 282

Cups, clay, 383

Curing rite, generalized pattern of,

257-67

Currants, 361

Cyclone, ceremony from, 313

Dance: fierce, following war, 352; of
masked dancers, 1 14-15; of masked
dancers practiced by children, 48;
round, 339; scalp, 350; social, 436-
3 7 ; soci al, at girl's puberty ri te, 1 20-
26; social, practiced by children, 48;
social, relatives not partners in,
123-24; social, during victory cele-
bration, 3^3; social, after war dance,
339; victory, 3S^S3\ war, 336-40

Dance steps: of girl in puberty rite,
1 17—18, 118 n.; of masked dancers
at puberty rite, 1 14-15

Dancing, ritual, 112

Dandruff, treatment of, 222

Datil fruit, gathering and use of, 360

Dead, meaning of dreams of, 191,
191 n.

Death, 26; brought by Coyote, 197;
ceremony halted at, 265; euphe-
mism for, 472; fears, derived from
rivalry, 236, 236 n.; obligations of
relatives at time of, 235; omen,
muscular tremor, 188; practices, in-
struction of children in respect to,
41-42; precautions at time of, 41,
235-36; purification rite following,
303; topic of, avoided, 472

Deer: ceremony from, 285; encircle-
ment by, dangerous, 287; hunting,
318-24; and love magic, 153, 408;
meaning of dream of, 191 n., 192-
93; ritual in butchering, 320

INDEX

487

Deer head mask, use of, in stalking
game, 285, 319

Deerskin: as proper container for
pollen, 364; unblemished, ritual, 16,
97, 116, 132, 259, 266, 272, 273, 283,
288; unblemished, ritual, how ob-
tained, 319

Deformity: caused by bear sickness,
225; caused by coyote sickness, 226;
cured by sweat bath, 218, 219; from
Mountain Spirits, 241

Demonstrativeness, attitude toward,

74, 403
Depilation, 20

Designs: on bow, 387; on cradle, as-
sociated with sex, 11; on fiddle, 451;
on pottery, 383; ritual, 16, 83, 31 1;
on shield, 392

Diagnosis, ceremonial, 39-40, 264, 275

Diagnosticians, 213

Diarrhea, treatment of, 221

Dipper, 384

Directional symbolism, 12, 16, 18, 40,

9i, 93, 94, 97, i", i12, "6, 130,
132, 216, 261, 273, 274, 295, 297,

338,345,357
Disapproval, social, influence of, 461
Disciplining children, methods of, 31-

34
Disease: how contracted, 224; non-
ritual treatment of, 216-17; sources
of, 41

Division of labor, sexual, 75, 354, 365,
368, 373, 375-76, 379, 386, 393, 395

Divorce: for adultery, 41 1 ; and avoid-
ance, 173; causes of, 412-13; dis-
position of children at, 413-14; dis-
tribution of property at, 412-13;
procedure, 412

Divorcee: remarriage of, 414-15; un-
stable position of, 414

Dog: associated with coyote, 40,
40 n.; barred from hoop-and-pole
ground, 227, 449; dangerous to chil-
dren, 14; disease from, 226-27, 293;

incensed, 288, 294; present attitude
toward, 227

Dolls, 45

Dove, as food, 328, 329

Drawing, ritual, 100

Dreams, 190-93, 282-83; ceremony
from, 191-93, 248; of dead, 233-34;
as omens of good and evil, 190-91;
of witch, 192

Dress: of children, 22; of girl during
puberty rite, 83; man's, 19-20;
woman's, 21-22

Drinking-tube, 93, 133, 136

Drownings, attributed to Water Mon-
ster, 200

Drum, 40, 1 10, 260, 271, 274; pottery,
23, 107, 113, 262, 336, 383; rawhide
used as, 113

Drumstick, curved, 107, 113, 262

Duck, as food, 329

Dwellings, 22-23; arrangement of, 24;
made by women, 22

Dyes, no n., 380

Eagle feather, ritually used, 39, 40, 85,

89, 91, 92, 94, 98, in, 115, 131, 132,
259, 260, 272, 283, 299, 301

Eagles: ambivalent attitude toward,
238-39; captive, 329-30; ceremony
from, 313; disease from, 238-39;
monster, slain by Child of the
Water, 197

Ear: burning, meaning of, 186; buzz-
ing, meaning of, 186; piercing, in-
fluence of, on child, 13; ringing,
meaning of, 186; trouble, treatment

of, 221-22

Earrings, 13

Earth: personified, 194; as source of
ceremony, 206

Earthquake, explanation of, 187

East: doorway of ceremonial struc-
ture toward, 96, 296; open space to-
ward, 92, 130

488

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Eastern Chiricahua band, 1-2; re-
moval to San Carlos, 463

Eating, prohibited during thunder-
storm, 241

Eclipse, 194; as warning of epidemic,
187

Eggs: associated with fertility, 366,
406; preparation of, 366

Elk, 325

Elopement, 144

Emotion, repressed, 140

Enema tube, 221, 261

Enemy: ceremony against, 310; cere-
mony to influence, 215; changed to
cattle by ceremony, 215; evasion of,
134-35; gnost sickness, 302-3,
302 n.

Enuresis, treatment of, 32
Epidemics: protection from, 268-69,
276, 277, 278-79; warnings of, 187

Etiquette: during meals, 428-29;
flouted, 141-42; of greeting, 429; at
parting, 429; of visiting, 433-34

Euphemism, 224, 227, 230, 269, 472

Europeans, 391, 463

Eye defects, caused by coyote sick-
ness, 226

Eyos; see Herus

Face-painting, 20, 22; ritual, 21, 130;
for war, 344, 344 n.

Facial hair, attitude toward, 69

Family: elementary, 25; extended, 18,
25, 181, 343; participation in child
training, 59

Fatherhood, multiple, 149, 150

Fawn, captive, draws lightning, 241

Feasts, at story-telling, 439

Feather, ritual, 266, 300

Feints, ritual, 12, 85, 93, 109, 282, 283,
291; used in transfer of power, 211

Female disorders, treatment of, 223

Fetus: female, characteristic of, 6;
male, characteristic of, 6

Feuds, between families, 460
Fiddle, 450-51, 450 n.

Fire: associated with masked-dancer
ceremony, 274, 278; ceremony
from, 313; meaning of dreams of,
190; methods of making and pre-
serving, 394-95; opposition of, to
ghost (owl), 42, 43, 43 n.; as pro-
phylactic against owl, 229; as pro-
phylactic against witchcraft, 253,
264; of puberty rite, 99; worshiped
by masked dancers, 112

Fire drill, use of, 393-94

Firewood, ritual arrangement of, 278

First experience, molding influence of,
103, 136

Fish: associated with snake, 330, 331;
as food, 330; taboo, 330-32

Fishing, methods of, 330

Flageolet, used in love ceremony, 151,

Fleshing implement, 376

Flint: associated with Thunder Peo-
ple, 38; ceremonial, 223, 259, 304; as
Thunder's arrow, 195, 389

Flood, story of, 198

Flute; see Flageolet

Food: ownership of, 371; ownership
of, at death, 371-72; restrictions of
pregnant woman, 5; ritual, 92-93,
282; ritual marking of, 132; served
at ceremony, 260; see also Restric-
tions

Foot races, 53, 444

Footgear, emergency, 348

Footprints, ritual, 16, 91, 98, 132

Fort Apache, 328

Fort Sill, 331, 415

Fox; as death omen, 226; disease from,
226

Fractures, treatment of, 217
"Friends we have become," 181, 182,

183
Fright, as a source of illness, 224

INDEX

489

Frigidity, 413

Frog: associated with snake, 332; con-
sequences of eating, 187; legs as
food, 332; taboo, 332

Frostbite, treatment of, 217

Fruit-bearing bush or tree, associated
with growth, 8, 18

Fuse, juniper bark, ritual use of, 116

Gambling: ceremony for, 443-44;
games, 444; at girl's puberty rite,
126; influence on distribution of
property, 398-99

Games: arrow, 50-52, 443; ball, 52,
446-48; bone, 52, 443; marble, 52-
53, 443; played with pebbles, 53;
shinny, 445-46; stone- throwing,
446; see also Hoop-and-pole, Moc-
casin game, Stave games

Garments, ritual, 260, 266, 283, 311

Gelding, of horses, 259

Geronimo, 40, 200, 216, 226, 300, 310,
338, 344, 402, 423

Gesture: of amazement, 433; con-
temptuous, of women, 457-58; jok-
ing, 434-35; of mock-seriousness,
433

Gesturing, to drive away evil, 112,
274, 276

Ghost: activities of, 43; appearance
of, in dreams, 233-34; ceremony, 43;
dangers from food offered by, 234;
disease from, 229-37; footprints of,
232-33; manifestation of as amor-
phous object, 232; manifestation of
as owl, 229-3 1 ; manifestation of as
person, 233-34, precautions against
dreams of, 191; relation to owl, 30,
42; speaks, 231-32; throws stones,
232; whistles, 231

Ghost medicine, 302, 302 n.; used after
battle, 354; used after handling
scalp, 350

Ghost sickness, 41, 229-37; enemy,
236-37> 302-3, 302 n.

Giant, monster, 35; slain by Child of
the Water, 197

Gift-giving, importance of, 399-400

Gila monster, 310

Girdle, worn after confinement, 10

Girl, adolescent: control over weather,
90; curative functions of, 90, 97, 99;
identified with White Painted
Woman, 88, 90, 92, 99; restrictions
of, 93-94

Girls: training, early, 74, 75; training
related to marriage, 74-75; unmar-
ried, guidance of, 143

Go-between, 157-61

Goods, ownership of, 397-98

Goose: associated with speed and en-
durance, 214; ceremony from, 300;
as food, 329

Gopher, disease from, 237

Gourd, 384

Grama grass, 3^, 94, 98, 261; brush,
ritual use of, 116, 131

Grandparent-grandchild relationships,
62-65

Grapes, gathering and use of, 359
Graves, 473-74
Gray One; see Clown
Great-grandparent-great-grandchild

relationships, 65
Ground drawing, 265
Group tactics, in boys' training, 72-73
Guard, for camp, 427
Guardian spirit, 262
Gypsum, 261

Hados; see Herus

Hair: cut for mourning, 293, 305, 475;
gray, consequences of pulling, 187;
used in love ceremony, 153; wash-
ing, ritual, 92

Hairdress: girl's, 75; man's, 20;
woman's, 22

Handkerchief, black silk, 259, 262

49°

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Harrington, M. R., 284 n., 449
Hat, ceremonial, of novice, 136-37
Hawk, ceremony from, 313
Hawthorne fruits, 361
Haze, ceremony from, 3 13
Head, occipital flattening of, 14
Headdress, of masked dancer, 109-10
Heart, raw, of first kill eaten, 66
Hedos; see Herus
Herbalism, 220-23, ^3, 291, 301
Heredity, 149

Herus, mythological figure, 198-99,
321,321 n.

Hide-and-seek, $3
Hobble, for horse, 396
Hoijer, Harry, 456 n.
Homosexuality, 415

Honey: associated with fertility, 405;
gathering and use of, 364.-6^', pro-
cured by children, 47

Hoofed animals, meaning of dreams
of, 190

Hoop-and-pole game, 16, 17; associ-
ated with snake, 449, 449 n.; cere-
mony of, 448; equipment of, 448,
449; learned by boys, 49-50; origin
of, 449-50; time of play, 448

Hoop-and-pole ground, 448-49; as
meeting place of men, 450

Horse: care of, 299; disease from, 239-
40; manner of mounting, 396;
"moccasins," 396; races, 444-45;
spotted, draws lightning, 241

Horse ceremony, 259, 294-300; func-
tions of, 298-99; ritual offerings of,
259; value of, to possessor, 300

Horses: killed at death of owner, 293;

ownership of, 395; wild, tamed by

horse ceremony, 298
Hot Springs, 309
Household, 181; equipment, 23
Hummingbird: ceremony from, 313;

used in love ceremony, 151; used in

racing, 299

Humor, verbal, 435

Hunger, means of combatting, 318,
318 n.

Hunt: aided by fasting, 316-17; bas-
ket prohibited on, 317; care of pro-
ceeds of, 321, 324; generosity as-
sociated with, 3i7,'"3i8, 323; indi-
vidual character of, 318; poisoned
arrow used on, 319; relay method
used in, 319-20

Hunting: ability, associated with deer
and antelope power, 285-86; "for
another," 322-23; first instruction
in, 66; of first large game, 70; luck,
restored by deer or antelope cere-
mony, 286

Imitations, humorous, 435
Impotence, 413

Incensing, 220; of dog, 288, 294;
against ghosts, 302

Incest: equated with witchcraft, 250;
punishment of, 250; rule, 59

Infant, care of, 14-15
Infanticide, practiced on illegitimate
children, 147

Inhibition: between members of op-
posite sex, 141; between members of
same sex, 140

Injured, manner of carrying, 296

Insanity, caused by Mountain Spirits,
241

Insects, ceremonies from, 313
Instruction, of novice, 136
Invective, 228, 457
Invulnerability ritual, 311-12
Ipomoea lacunosa, gathering and use

of, 359
Irrigation, 373

"It moves the arms about," ceremony
for finding lost objects, 214

Ivy poisoning, treatment of, 218

Jack rabbit, as food, 325-26
Jaspar, 261

INDEX

491

Jealousy, 406-7

Joking: between old people and chil-
dren, 31; practical, 435

Juh, Chiricahua leader, 2
Juniper berries, gathering and use of,
358-59, 361

Kantaneiro, mythological figure, 199,
199 n., 312

Katydid, associated with agriculture,

374
Killer of Enemies, 95, 95 n., 127, 319;

frees animals, 198, 317; position in

mythology, 197; as representative

of white man, 198

Kin: economic solidarity of, 397-98;

functions of, 54
Kinship: bilateral character of, 19,

54; system, 480

Kinship terms, 479; grandparent-
grandchild, 64-65; honorific, 85, 86,
224, 227, 408; nepotic-avuncular,
57> 58; parent-child, 55; ritual use
of, 196, 273; siblings and cousins,
58-59; used in asking ceremonial
aid, 213, 258

Kissing, 140

Knife: black-handled, 259, 302, 304;
not used for stirring food, 187;
stone, 393

Labor: lack of specialization of, 398;
sexual division of, 27-28, 316

Laguna, 1

Lamb's quarter, gathering and use of,

363
Leader: authority of, 469; of band,

464; characteristics of, 466-69;

function of, in maintaining internal

peace, 460; function of in war, 344;

functions of, 468, 469; of local

group, 464; retirement of, 470
Leaf, sticky, used in love ceremony,

*S3
Legerdemain, use of, by shaman, 263-

64

Lesbianism, 415

Levirate, 57-58, 181 n., 185, 425-26

Life Giver, 17, 36, 280-81, 281 n.;

place of, in cosmology, 194; place of,

in mythology, 198
Lifting, ritual, 12, 16, 17, 37, 99

Lightning: as arrow of Thunder Peo-
ple, 195; associated with Child of
the Water, 281; behavior at time of,
38; ceremony from, 293; design,
283; precautions against, 240-41;
see also Thunder, Thunder People

Lightning-riven wood, 11, 223, 283
Lipan Apache, 439 n.; present loca-
tion of, 4

Living offering, required for recovery,

272

Lizard, 310

Local group, 25, 181, 182, 183, 184;
council, membership of, 464

Locust: flowers, gathering and use of,
358; pods, 363

Loneliness, 37; treatment for, 429

Long Nose; see Clown

Love ceremony, 151-53, 207, 408

Man: creation of, 198; married, rela-
tions of, with blood kin, 181-83

Mano, 359, 384-85

Marble game, ^

Marking, ritual, 12, 16, 17, 18, 91, 92,
97, 131, 258, 261, 262, 271, 273, 277,
291, 295, 301, 304, 308, 309, 310

Marriage: allowed after novitiate,
139; arranged by kin, 154-56; ar-
rangements for, 157-62; celebra-
tion, 163; degree to which princi-
pals control, 155-56; economic fac-
tor in, 154-55; forced, 145-46; time
of, 154, 154 n.; after victory celebra-
tion, 144, 353-54

Marriage gifts, 158, 161-62; disposal
of, 162; function of, 162; relation to
status, 161

492

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Marriages, plural, percentage of, 420;
see also Polygyny

Masked-dancer ceremony, 39; descrip-
tion of, 101, 244-45; functions of, 87

Masked-dancer curing rite: conducted
with headdresses- alone, 276; de-
scription of, in; 273-76, 277, 278-
79; public nature of, 278

Masked-dancer leader, 103, 105, 114,
115; function of, in curing, 274-75,
277-78

Masked-dancer shaman, 100; controls
weather, 279

Masked dancers, 87, 96 n.; added
strength of, 1 12-13; associated with
puberty rite, 87-88; blessing ritual
of, 275, body decoration of, 109;
costumes of, 109-10; danger of ob-
serving costuming of, 37; dangerous
to pregnant woman, 5; dangerous
to women and children, 100; dan-
gers to, 100; expose witches, 279;
headdresses of referred to as
"horns," 1 10 n.; impersonate moun-
tain-dwelling supernaturals, 100;
make people dance, 128-29; masks
of, 109-10; natural aptitude of, 102-
3; not considered supernaturals,
112; painting of, 107; participate in
social dancing, 129; payment of,
103-4; preparation of, 100; at pu-
berty rite, 100-15; punishment of,
1 02; restrictions of, 100; songs of,
107-8; and weather control, 100;
wooden sticks of, 109; worship fire,
112

Masked dancing, as aid in acquiring

the ceremony, 105
Masturbation, 79
Mates, co-operation of, 401
Matrilocal residence, 18, 63, 162-63
Meals, 428
Measure, units of, 444, 444 n.

Meat: methods of cooking, 366, 367-
68; preservation of, 368

Men: authority of, in political life,

463-64; may not witness making of
parfleche, 379; may not witness pot-
tery-making, 382 n.; of the Moun-
tain, name for masked dancers, 112

Menses, first, 80, 82, 90

Menstrual blood: dangers of, 150;
dangers of, to men, 80, 81; disease
from contact with, 241

Menstruation, instruction of girls con-
cerning, 154

Mescal; see Agave
Mescalero, 360

Mescalero Apache, 96 n., 378, 386; lo-
cation of, 1; present location of, 4

Mesquite beans, gathering and use of,
361-62

Messengers, 427

Metate, 359, 384-85

Mexican Indians, 369

Mexicans, 215, 290, 334, 341, 345,

346, 347, 349, 35i, 396, 398, 402
Mexico, 33s, 31^ 384, 416
Midwife, ceremonial functions of, 7, 8
Miles, General Nelson A., 4
Milky Way, explanation of, 187
Mimbrenos Apache, 1

Moccasin game, 54, 453-56; equip-
ment of, 453-54; myth of, 453;
played for daylight, 197; songs of,
454-55; time of play, 453; varia-
tions of, 4S5~5^

Modesty, 77

Mogollon Mountains, 453

Mogollones Apache, 1

"Molding," of adolescent girl, 98

Monsters, of mythological period, 89,
197

Moon, 194; associated with power to
see distant events, 214; ceremony
from, 313; full, 16; new, 16; objects
seen in, 187

Mountain, as source of ceremony, 206

Mountain goat, 325

INDEX

493

Mountain lion; ceremony from, 313;
as food, 327

Mountain People, 35, 96 n., 199, 267-
80; attitude of people toward, 280;
ceremony from, 269-72; disease
from, 241; as guardians of game
animals, 280; home of, 269; protec-
tive function of, 268; as source of
ceremony, 206

Mountain sheep, 325, 378

Mountain Spirits, 112, 267; curative
functions of, 267-68; dangers from,
241, 269; impersonated by masked
dancers, 199 n.; protectors of game
animals, non.; respect for, 268;
tales of, 267-69

Mourning, 477; customs, 293; period,
shortened to facilitate sororate, 423

Mulberries, gathering and use of, 359

Mule; see Horse

Mumps, treatment of, 221

Murder, 459-60; compounded, 461

Murderer, defense of, by kin, 460

Musical bow, 450

Musical instruments, 23-24

Mutilation, for adultery, 410

Myths: of moccasin game, 438; re-
strictions on time of telling, 438;
used in child training, 34-36

Name: called in war dance, 337, 338,
339> 43°; changed after death in
family, 476; of dead avoided, 236,
476; of dead person not called be-
fore his kin, 236; not indicative of
sex, 429 n.; proper use of, 429-30;
used in anger, 431; used in asking
ceremonial aid, 258, 430; used in
asking help at death, 430; used in
battle, 346, 430; used in emergency,
430, 430 n.; used in victory celebra-
tion, 352

Names: character and examples of,
429 n.; of children, 8-9; of shaman's

kin used in asking ceremonial aid,

258
Nana, 464

Navaho Indians, 290, 398
Nepotic-avuncular relationships, 55-

58
Nicknames, 432

Nighthawk: associated with light-
ning, 195; ceremony from, 300-301

Novice: called Child of the Water,
137, 344; raid and war, 70; restric-
tions upon, 137-38; sacred nature
of, 137; tasks of, 138; in war party,
344

Number, ritual, 17, 18, 116, 127, 130,
262-63, 271, 274, 287, 291, 295,
297, 298, 299, 306, 309, 337, 340

Obsidian, 259

Obstacles, in vision experience, 269,

272, 288-89, 307
Ocher, red, 8, 89, 98, 131, 261
Odor, as source of illness, 224
Offerings, ritual, 272, 273, 283, 297,

304, 309; used in asking shaman's

aid, 258-59

Ojo Caliente Apache, 1

Old age: hastened by selfishness, 187;
practices at death from, 474

Onions: gathering and use of, 358,
363; not eaten before hunt, 316

Opal, 261

Opossum, method of hunting, 325

Ornaments, 21-22

Osha, not chewed before hunt, 316

Otter, hunted for fur, 327

Owl: as bugaboo for children, 30;
ceremony from, 301-5; disease
from, 229-31; as ghost of witch,
230; hoot interpreted as speech,
230; as materialization of ghost,
229-31; relation to ghost, 30, 42

Pacifist, 339

Paint, white; see Clay

494

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Painting, ritual, of deerskin, 293

Paints, ritual, 266

Parent, as disciplinarian, 55

Parent-child relationship, 54-55

Parfleche, 371; making of, 378-79

Parrot, attitude toward, 239

Patient, participation of, in ceremony,
ioi, 291

Payment: ritual, 11, in, 272; of
singer at puberty rite, 133; for
transmission of ceremony, 211; of
women at social dances, 123, 129-
3°, 353

Pebble games, S3

Peccary: fetal, eaten, 327; as food,
326; meaning of dream of, 191 n.;
method of hunting, 326

Pemmican, 363

Pendants, of masked-dancer head-
dress, no

Personality conflicts: in avoidance
relationship, 175-76; in polite-form
relationship, 178

Pima Indians, 463

Pine: bark, gathering and use of, 358;
nuts, 362

Pinery Apache, 2

Pinon nuts, gathering and use of, 362

Pipe, tubular, 442-43

Pit baking, of meat, 366-67

Pit oven, 357

Plants: ceremony from, 284-85; me-
dicinal use of, 220; sex attributed to,
n, 394; unused parts returned to
earth, 284; used in childbirth, 7

Plates, clay, 383

Play, domestic, of children, 48-49

Pleiades, 428

Pointing: with hand, 432; with lips,
432

Poles, of ceremonial structure, not
used, 133

Polite form, 177-81, 185; behavior

pattern of, 178, 185; continuation or
termination of, 180-81, 185; eco-
nomic implications of, 178; per-
sonality conflicts in, 178; terminol-
ogy used in, 177-78, 185
Pollen, 8, 11, 12, 16, 17, 18, 23, 37, 40,

89, 9i, 92, 93, 94, 96, 97, 98, 100,
130, 131, 132, 137, 190, 259, 260,
261, 265, 266, 271, 272, 273, 291,
295, 298, 301, 306, 309, 310, 342;
Dags, 3795 from corn, 375; cross,
215; sources of, 260-61; from tule,
gathering of, 364; used in the trans-
fer of power, 211

Polygyny, 13, 151, 416-20; living ar-
rangements for, 419-20; sororal,
S5S6, 416-20

Poorwill: associated with masked
dancers, 29; as bugaboo for children,
29

Popgun, 46

Population figures, 4

Pork taboo, 326, 331

Postnatal care, 9-10

Potato, wild, gathering and use of,
359, 3(>3

Pottery-making, 382-84

Pounder, 385

Power: as animating principle, 205;
dangers of, 270; dangers of simula-
tion of, 207; duality of, 242-43;
evil, 255; holy home of, 204; jour-
ney, 204-5; knowledge of, withheld,
212; loss of, 209-10, 211; means of
revelation of, 204; mediums of, 205;
obtained by direct experience, 202-
5; offer of refused, 203-4; practical
aids from, 214; resentful of misuse,
208; restoration of, 210; revelation
of, 213; sources, complementary
character of, 212; time of acquisi-
tion of, 201-2; used to bring suc-
cess, 214; used in diagnosis, 213;
used to halt fugitives, 215; used to
influence Americans, 215; used to
influence Mexicans, 215; used to
locate enemy, 214-15; used to locate

INDEX

495

missing objects, 214; used in proph-
ecy, 213-14; used for protection
against attack, 215, 216; used in
treatment of disease, 213; used to
weaken enemy, 215; wide inter-
pretation of, 208; see also Witch-
craft

Powers, multiple, 212, 291-93

Prairie chicken, as food, 329

Prairie dog, as food, 326

Prayer, 17, 40, 92, 94, 106-7, '93,
219, 261, 262, 263-64, 283, 287, 303,
304, 305, 3i 1, 337, 338, 357

Precocity, sexual, attitude toward, 79

Pregnancy, 5-7

Presents, for those who listen to stories
all night, 440

Prisoners: adult, executed, 351; fe-
male, intercourse with forbidden,
351; small boy, adopted, 351; treat-
ment of, 350-51

Pronghorn; see Antelope

Property, destruction of, at death, 474

Prophecy, 308-9; in ritual, 301

Puberty rite, girl's, 82-134; associated
with long life, 82; ceremonial para-
phernalia of, 89; complexity of, 82;
economic preparations for, 82-83;
origin of, 89, 198; social aspects of,
9i> 99

Pubescent girl: aids in child training,
32; lifts child to insure his growth,
37

Pueblo Indians, 369, 392, 398

Pulling, ritual, 101, 274

Pun, 435-36

Punishment, corporal, of children, 33-
34

Purification, after burial, 475

Quail, as food, 328-29

Quirt, 396

Quiver, 341; man's part in making,
379-80; materials for, 391; of moun-

tain-lion skin, 327; woman's part in
making, 379-80

Rabbit: associated with fertility, 406;
cottontail, methods of hunting, 325,
326; surround, 76

Raft, 396

Rage, exclamation of, 458

Raid: behavior of children during, 37;
conversion of, into war, 335; eco-
nomic significance of, 332-35; gen-
erosity following, 335; methods of,
334; nonparticipant accused of in-
dolence, 333; novice, age of, 134; as
rival industry to hunting, 332; ter-
minology referring to, 333-34; un-
warlike nature of, 334; and war
novitiate, 134-39; and war vocabu-
lary of novice, 138, 138 n.

Rain: causes and omens of, 186, 188;

ceremony for, 216; female, 186-87;

male, 186
Rape, penalty for, 145
Rash, cause of, 186
Raspberries, gathering and use of, 359
Rattle: eagle claw, 262; gourd, 95 n.;

hoof, 23, 89, 95, 98, 115, 117, 130,

132, 262

Reciprocity, in gift-giving, 399, 400

Rectal ailments, treatment of, 221

Red: associated with lightning, 38,
241; not worn after death, 476-77

Relatives: abandon witch, 252-53,
253 n.; part of, in burial, 473; perse-
cution by ghosts of, 230, 231, 233,
*34> 236, 236 n.

Religious excitement, attitude toward,

Reptiles, ceremonies from, 306-10

Reservations, 3-4

Restraint: brother-sister, 59-61; rela-
tionships and story- telling, 439

Restrictions: on audience at cere-
mony, 40, 41, 260; on audience at
masked-dancer ceremony, 112; be-

496

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

havior, following ceremony, 265-66,
276, 276 n., 310, 405; food, following
ceremony, 38, 265-66, 301, 305, 310,
365, 405; termination of food, 266;
on wives of absent warriors, 342-43

Retribution, for violation of virgin,
146

Rheumatism, treatment of, 217

Rhombus, 46

Right side, ritual precedence of, 92, 98

Rings, around sun and moon, meaning
of, 186

Rio Grande, 462

Ritual objects, associated with power
source, 260-61

Ritual practices, homeopathic char-
acter of, 205-6

Robes, skin, 378

Rock, as source of ceremony, 206
Rock crystal, 261, 405
Rolling, at place of birth, 10
Rope, used in love ceremony, 153
Ropemaking, 393

Running: ability, from chasing birds
and butterflies, 48; associated with
sweat-bathing, 220; ritual, 85, 91,
98, 131, 271

Rupture, treatment of, 217

Sacred places, 312

Saddle bag, making of, 378

Saddle-making, 395

Sage, 94; used as protection against
lightning, 38, 282

Saliva, administered in ritual, 298,

309,3H
San Carlos, 463
San Carlos Apache, 343; ceremony of,

308
Scalp: dance, 350; fear of, 350
Scalping, attitude toward, 349-50
Scouts, of war party, 343
Scraper, 376
Scratcher, 93, 133, 136, 220

Screw beans, gathering and use of, 360

Seasons, 354

Seduction, penalty for, 145

Seeds, gathering and use of, 359, 363

Self, dreams of, 190

Sewing, 380

Sex, attributed to plants, 11, 394

Sexes: attitude of one toward the

other, 78; separate activities of, 78;

separation of, 77

Sexual aberrance, related to witch-
craft, 247, 249-51

Sexual adjustment, in marriage, 404-5

Sexual intercourse: of boys with old

women, 81; forbidden to novice, 137
Shadow, loss of luck when stepped on,

449
Shaking, of buckskin to the directions,

91,98

Shaman, 100; assistant to, 262; atti-
tude toward failure of, 267; criti-
cism of, 313; disagrees with power
source, 208-9; function of, in war,
200, 344, 345; how chosen, 257; in-
dependence of, 213; manner of re-
questing services of, 258-59; of
masked-dancer rite, 87; payment of,
10, 266; political power of, 200; re-
lations of, with client, 267; relations
of, with power source, 39, 207-11,
263, 275; skepticism toward, 313-15

Shamanism, economic advantage of,

200

Shamans: numbers of, 200; personal-
ity differences of, 211-13; stories of
frauds by, 314; stories of failures of,
314; women, 201

Shell, white, 259; see also Beads

Shield: ceremonialism associated with,

341, 39I_92; making of, 391-92
Shinny, 54, 445-46
Shooting in air, at death of relative,

472-73
Shrines, wayside, 312

INDEX

497

Sibling relationships, 58-61

Signal, smoke, 135, 347

Signaling, with mirror, 347-48

Signs, on trail, 135

Silas John: cross, 302; cult, 233 n.

Sinew, 380

Singer, of masked-dancer dance songs,

Singer of puberty rite, 85; nonshaman-
istic functions of, 85; payment of,
87; selection of, 85-86

Singers, of social dance songs, 437
Skepticism, toward shamans, 313-15
Skin ailments, caused by snake dis-
ease, 227

Sleep-walking, treatment of, 217-18
Sling, 46; making of, 393

Smoking, 69; allowed after novitiate,
139; ritual, 40, 106, 117, 261, 283,
338, 406

Smoking songs, of puberty rite, 118,
120, 127

Snake: associated with pollen, 309;
bite, treatment of, 227; ceremony
from, 228, 306-10; disease from,
227-29; protection from, 37-38

Snakeweed, 94, 261

Sneezing, meaning of, 186

Snowbird, as food, 328

Songs: of aged, 471; care and use of
ritual, 208; church, 315, 315 n.;
dance, of masked dancers at pu-
berty rite, 1 14-15; of girl's puberty
rite, 115, 117-20, 127, 128, 130, 131;
for horse racing, 445; of masked-
dancer ceremony, 107-8; of moc-
casin game, 454-55; ritual, 9, 17, 38,
39, 92, 95, 262, 283, 287, 291, 295,
296, 298, 300, 303, 304, 305, 309,
311; social dance, 120-26; social
dance, composition of, 121; of
sweat-bathing, 219-20; of victory
dance, 2S3\ of war dance, 338

Sorcery: dangers of, to unborn child,
6; difficult labor attributed to, 9

Sororate, $^ 181 n.; and avoidance or
polite form, 424-25; function of,
421-22; operation of, 422-25; waiv-
ing of, 424

Sorrel, wood, gathering and use of, 359

Southern Chiricahua band, 2

Sparrow, as food, 328

Spear: ceremonial nature of, 341;
making of, 391 ; used by war leaders,
341-42

Specular iron ore, 1 2, 89, 131, 132, 259,
261

Spider, disease from, 240; not mo-
lested, 240

Spider web: bridge, 289; and sun-
beam, 240; used in love ceremony,
152

Spitting, ritual, 109, 224, 264

Spoon, 384

Spring, associated with fertility, 17,

406
Spruce: trees, bound masked-dancer

ground, 278; used for ceremonial

structure, 94

Squirrels, hunting of, 326

Staff, as symbol of ceremony, 290

Stars, 194; ceremony from, 313; shoot-
ing, point to enemy, 187; used to
guide travel, 348

Status, 28, 465-66; of men, related to
boys' training, 74; related to gift-
giving, 399

Stave games, 54, 451-53; ceremony
of, 451; equipment of, 452; used in
courtship, 451

Stepping over person, forbidden, 187

Sterility, 405; from ceremony, 80-81;
male, 406

Sticks, erected to symbolize songs of
puberty rite, 127

Stirrup, 396

Storm: manner of stopping, 187; sud-
den, as bad omen, 187

Story- telling, 437-41; as education for
young, 438

498

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Strawberries, gathering and use of, 359
Sucking, by shaman, 264, 291
Suicide, 250-51, 409, 409 n., 472 n.
Sumac berries, gathering and use of,

358, 360
Summer: explanation of long days of,

194; home of, 289; meaning of

dreams of, 190

Sun, 96, 100, 130, 194; associated with
power to see distant events, 214;
ceremony from, 313; as mediator
between Thunder and Wind, 196;
symbol, 131, 297; used in love cere-
mony, 152, 153

Sunflower seeds, gathering and use of,

363-64
Supplication, for ritual aid, in

Sweat-bathing, 218-20; used in boys'
training, 71

Sweat house, description of, 219

Swellings, caused by snake disease,
227-28

Swimming, 47

Tag, 53

Tanager, summer, as guardian spirit,
305-6

Tanning hides, 376-77
Tattooing; man's, 21 ; woman's, 22
Teasing, during story-telling, 440-4 1
Teeth: disposal of, 37; meaning of

dreams of losing, 190
Teknonymy, 432

Tepee, 385-86; built for horse cere-
mony, 296; ceremonial, 94-96

Territory, formerly controlled by

Chiricahua, 1
Theft, 459

Thirst, means of combating, 348
Threshing, 359

Thunder (lightning): 195-96; cere-
mony from, 282-84; clap, as shout-
ing of Thunder People, 195; story of
quarrel with Wind, 196

Thunder People, 38, 195, 389; disease
from, 196, 240-41; as hunters on be-
half of humans, 195; respect toward,
195-96

Time: devices for keeping, 348; peri-
ods, 354SS; reckoning, 355, 428

Tiswin, 153, 337, 368, 369-70; parties,
436

Tobacco, 17; associated with tuber-
culosis, 151 ; blood incompatible
with, 187; forbidden to boys and
young women, 441; obtained from
Mexicans and whites, 441; scarcity
of, 440, 441, 442

Toothache, treatment of, 217, 222

Top, S3

Torture, of suspected witches, 252

Toys, 45-46, 47

Trade, 398

Trail: ritual, 15, 16, 117, 127, 130,
132, 265; signs on, 346-47

Transvestites, 416

Tree bed, 49

Trees, as source of ceremony, 206

Tremor, muscular, 187-90; as omen of

good or evil, 188-89; prayed to, 188,

189
Tribal ties, 462
Tube, used by shaman in sucking, 264

Tuberculosis: caused by worms,
151 n.; contracted through inter-
course, 150-51; herbal remedy for,
151; treatment of, 223

Tucson, 463

Tug-of-war, 53, 443

Tule, gathering and use of, 356

Tumpline, 75

Turkey: feathers, no; as food, 328,

329; method of hunting, 328
Turquoise, 11,13,38,96, 110,111,131,

259, 263, 266, 271, 272, 283, 299, 309
Turtle, 310; disease from, 237; shell,

ceremonial use of, 310
Twins, as evidence of adultery, 411

INDEX

499

Umbilical cord, disposal of, 8

Underworld, 229, 230, 474; descrip-
tion of, 42, 477-78; return from,
477-78

Unfaithfulness, 408-12; combated
with alga, 408; husband's attitude
toward, 409-10

Unicorn plant seeds, 363

Venereal disease, treatment of, 222-23
Verbalism, potency of, 224, 225, 228,
230,277,317,456-57

Victorio, 464

Victory: dance, 352-53; influence of,

on marriages, 144
Vinegarroon, disease from, 237-38
Virginity, 78, 82, 154; economic value

of, 145

Wailing, for dead, 477

Wapiti; see Elk

War: associated with revenge, 336;
booty, distribution of, 352; care of
wounded in, 349; cry, prohibited,
337; dance, 336-40; dead not men-
tioned in victory celebration, 354;
methods of, 343-46; party con-
trasted with raiders, 33 5; poisoned
arrows used in, 340-41; strategy,
345-46

War club, making of, 392-93

Warbler, yellow, ceremony from, 313

Warm Springs Apache, 1

Warts: causes of, 186, 187; removed

with sinew, 186
Water: associated with lightning, 196;

meaning of dreams of, 190; used in

love ceremony, 152, 153

Water Beings, 199

Water carrier, rawhide, 379

Water jar, 381-82; no onlookers dur-
ing covering with pitch, 381

Water Monster, 200; ceremony from,
313

Wealth, influence of, in status, 465

Weaning, 18

Weapons: ceremony from, 310-12; for
war, 340

Weather control, ceremony for, 216

Western Apache, Chiricahua contacts

with, 4
Wet nurse, 9
Whistle, to call deer, 319
Whistling, prohibited at night, 231
White man, creation of, 198
White Painted; see Clown

White Painted Woman, 16, 17, 36, 84,
88, 89, 90, 92, 96, 99, 127, 197, 198,
216, 271, 307, 471; associated with
earth, 281, 282; symbolic of femi-
nine principle, 282

White settlers, 369; Chiricahua con-
tacts with, 2
Wickiup, 385

Wife: and husband's relatives, 184-
85; independence of, 402; protected
by own kin, 401

Wildcat: ceremony from, 313; as
food, 327

Wild-goose chase, used in child train-
ing, 32

Wind: brings sickness, 277; brought
by rhombus, 46; as source of cere-
mony, 206; story of quarrel with
Thunder, 196

Windbreak, 386

Wink, 434-35

Winnowing, 359

Winter, explanation of short days of,
194

Witch: associated with graves, 475;
behavior toward, 44-45; "chews
rocks," 124, 192; dangerous to own
relatives, 254-57; detection of, 246-
48; ghost of, becomes owl, 230;
methods of, 243, 245-46; motives
of, 243-44; sacrifices lives of others,
255; sacrifices own relatives, 255-
57; scope of activity of, 244-45;
seen in dreams, 192

500

AN APACHE LIFE-WAY

Witchcraft, 82, 193, 303, 457; and
avoidance obligations, 165, 250;
dangers of, to shaman, 249; de-
tected by shamans, 243; diseases
caused by, 242;- hereditary nature
of, 243; incest equated with, 250;
objects of, 264; opposed by shaman,
248-49, 264; punishment 0^251-54;
reality of, 249; seen in vision ex-
perience, 290; transmission of, 243

Wolf: ceremony from, 294; disease
from, 226; howl, used in war, 347

Women: attitude of men toward, 142;
barred from hoop-and-pole ground,
449; food-gathering activities of,
354-6$; nonparticipation of in
sweat-bathing, 219; ritual disabili-
ties of, 201; as singers of social

dance songs, 436; subordinate posi-
tion of, 142, 401

Wood rats, method of hunting, 325

"Worshiping," from directions, by
masked dancers, 112, 115, 274, 279

Wounded, care of, 349
Wrestling, 53, 443
Wristguard, 391

Yaqui, 284

Yucca: flowers, gathering and use of,

356; stalks, gathering and use of,

355S6
Yusn, 233, 233 n., 264, 307, 317, 3 21,

406; see also Life Giver

Zuni, 1

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Connecticut

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